


Mandala

by Dr_Doomsduck



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Gwen unfriendly, M/M, Miracle Day, Multi, Series 5, wibbly wobbly timey wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:59:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 124,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Doomsduck/pseuds/Dr_Doomsduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began, or rather continued because nothing ever truly ends or begins, with a man who grew old but didn’t age. He was standing in a building that wasn’t ever built and looked out to a world that would never turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. World's closing in.

**Author's Note:**

> So, This is me, trying out Archive Of Our Own for a bit. The story, I have half a mind to finish it before posting it completely, but since I also wanted to know how the website works, I'm posting the first two chapters already, and just see how it goes from there. Right now, I've got like 4/5 of the story ready, but I can't entirely promise I'll be ready soon, because basically, I'm not very consistent in when I write, sometimes it's fast, sometimes it's slow, etc. In the very rare case that several people are actually interested in Mandala, I'll start a weekly update schedule or something.
> 
> I want to thank Weis07 for being an amazing Beta and giving me the inspiration and the discipline to actually write this!
> 
> Oh, also, IMPORTANT. You should probably know the basics of 'house of the dead' and maybe a bit of background on 'miracle day'. Really, it's just a throwaway line here and there that one wikipedia search can settle for you.

* * *

_\----------,  ----._

For most creatures in the universe time is a rather simple concept, what’s done is done, what’s happening matters and what’s to come is uncertain. That’s how it works for animals, plants, bacteria and the likes. The self-aware species however, complicate matters. They start to think about how time works, what it is. They theorize on how to stop it, how to travel through it and how to change it after it has flowed past them.

The real question is: what happens when you reach those individuals who believe that they’ve truly mastered time? How powerful is someone who can go back and rewrite all his mistakes or can go forward and influence what he’ll become.

It began, or rather continued because nothing ever truly ends or begins, with a man who grew old but didn’t age. Who stood in a building that wasn’t ever built and looked out to a world that would never turn.

“Do you think it matters?”

“I’m sorry sir, does what matter?” the woman answered, wearily eyeing her boss. She knew him well enough to realize that this wasn’t just the babbling of a senile old man, it was probably some sort of test hidden beneath vague words.

“Whether or not we can go back to fix our mistakes.”

“Well, of course. What’s the point of this whole organisation if we can’t go back and fix the damage we’ve done?” She still didn’t know where this was going.

“Fix one mistake, make another. How do we know that the history books we have here are correct, perhaps we’ve shaped them, erased parts of them before we even knew that they were vital to our future.” The man didn’t even need to look at her to realize he was egging her on.

“Sir, these books were taken outside of the timeline to make sure they wouldn’t change when it does!”

“But they were a part of it once, how do we know we didn’t change anything before we took them away?”

“Are you saying that our entire control system is bullshit?” Had she not been so busy trying to figure out what the teacher had meant, she might’ve noticed an orange flare on the horizon. As it was, the woman was still trying to wrap her head around supposed flaws in a bulletproof system of measuring the past.

“I’m saying that perhaps we’ve been relying on the written word to much. We keep trying to preserve the past as if it’ll shatter if we shift it, regardless of the damage we do to keep it in place. To ourselves, to others. Hell, entire species have blood on their hands because they weren’t supposed to know something.” He sighed and began to walk away from the window, the woman quickly following him down the corridor.

“So then what? We just mess around in the time stream willy-nilly, accidently destroying everything in the process?”

She never got her answer.

* * *

_Leadworth, 2011._

“Rory! Where did we put the transfoma- mirror-thingy?!” Amy was storming down the stairs, through the living room, to the kitchen only to then turn around and hurry back up.  
Honestly, sometimes Rory imaged being married to a nice girl who simply baked cherry pies in her spare time.

“I put the electric toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.” That earned him a glare. “Oh, you meant the transdimensional mirror-reflection scanner?” The last boxes had been emptied just a few hours ago, finishing the move into their new home. It was a nice place, two streets down from his parents and three from hers. A renovated house which, despite all the work he’d put into it, still refused to heat the bedroom.

“It’s in the desk drawer!”

Rory thought there might be a draft somewhere; Amy was convinced there were tiny aliens in the walls. He supposed that domestic answers just weren’t logical for someone who’d lived all her life next to a crack in time and space. So he let his wife play around with what her once-but-absolutely-not-imaginary friend had called an exceptional wedding-gift and a first class warning system for the unusual.

A red blur alerted him to the fact that Mrs. Williams had entered the kitchen once more and a kiss on his cheek told him that she’d found the scanner.

“Thanks love.”

“How’s the alien hunt going?” it still surprised Rory that he could say that with a straight face.

“One of these days, this thing will show me what is lurking in that room and then I’ll find a way to exterminate every last one of them.” She missed it, the running around, finding new species, visiting alien planets. Ever since the Doctor had dropped them off after a rollercoaster ride of a honeymoon Amy had been trying to find the extraordinary in regular places. Which reminded him, he still needed to call the mayor about that incident with the duck pond last week.

It wasn’t permanent, the playing house. He knew that. The Time Lord could pop up at any moment and then it’d be running, jumping and sword waving again. Strange really, but he didn’t mind. Being a nurse was fine and he loved his job but even he was beginning to miss the quantum-physics and extraordinary devices.

“Huh, that’s odd.”

“What is, dear?” By the time he turned around, his wife had disappeared from the surface of the earth. 

 

* * *

_Cardiff Rift, 2009_

It was over. Done. The rift was closed and the beast wouldn’t escape. Now though, he supposed he’d best get used to hanging around in space, because that was what his life would be like from now until doomsday. It wasn’t all bad though. Jack had said he’d loved him and that out of all the people he’d known, had wanted to see Ianto the most. On top of that, he’d choose eternal oblivion over losing Ianto. That the selfish bastard hadn’t even thought about the consequences for his mortal partner was less fortunate.

 _It’s not like the man is known for his planning skills._ He thought, while something uncomfortable stirred in his chest.

But those feelings would have to wait until, well, until he figured out what to do with them.

The entire pub was destroyed and all the ghosts, along with Seriath, had disappeared, leaving him behind. How did that happen? Why wasn’t he wherever they were?  Or perhaps he was and just couldn’t see or hear them. 

Apparently, Ianto had died. Now that the chaos had blown over, he could properly think about those blanks in his memory. He’d died in Jacks arms as one of the first victims of an alien plague.

That did not ring any bells.

Jack said that it’d been six months, but since he seemed to be missing the last bit of his life, that statement was useless. He should’ve asked for the date. What had happened to the diligent Ianto of old?  That guy, at least, would’ve asked if the entire human race hadn’t been wiped out by said plague.

 It was settled then, being dead was shit for his work attitude.

God, he wondered what Rhi would’ve thought, her little brother dead at age twenty-six. Questions were flashing through his mind. Did she know how he died? Had they told her about Torchwood? Did she arrange the funeral? Did she bring Johnny and the kids to it as well?

Wait.

Kids…

That did ring a bell.

Why did that ring a bell? Why would his niece and nephew be important? Jesus, he hoped they hadn’t contracted the plague too.

No, that wasn’t it. It was broader than just Mica and David. It was kids as a whole, all the kids on earth. Including a little blond boy he’d only seen on a computer screen, why did he remember that kid? Then it struck him, a single sentence:

“We are coming.”

And there it was, him dying rather pathetically in Jack’s arms after being too stupid to bring a bloody gasmask. It seemed his recent slacking off was not just a by-product of being dead.

He panicked a little at the thought of Jack waking up alone, probably next to his cold body and that Gwen, of all people, would have to help him. He didn’t mind Gwen, even liked her at times, but she was not fit to deal with this sort of thing. She’d either scream at him or try to absolve him from the blame and Jack, not ready to hear any of that, would run for the hills immediately.  

Well, it didn’t matter now anyway. Jack was gone and he was dead, forever floating around in a place that wasn’t really a place. Dying to close the rift?  He wasn’t that lucky. Because everything Ianto Jones did had severe repercussions that were guaranteed to haunt him for the rest of his life…

Or death.

_Whatever._

Except he wasn’t really floating anymore, he was being pulled. Something was taking him away from the dark non-place.

_Looks like you’re not quite done yet, Jones._


	2. The man with the plan and the gun in his hand.

* * *

_\----------,  ----._

“…..An…u..”

“….Ange…wa.”

“Angelica, wake up!”

The ringing in her ears hadn’t stopped yet, but at least she could hear voices again. Bright lights and moving shadows from the corner of her eye were trying to get her attention but the only thing she could look at was the corpse of her boss not ten feet away.

“Angie, looks at me, hey come on girl, look at me! Gods, that wound! Must’ve been shrapnel! Someone get me some sedatives.” Ah, a medic then. Bex probably, he’d be the only one of the squad to know her name. After trying, and failing, to process what was happening, she decided that perhaps now would be a good time to make contact with him. The attempt to ask him what was going on however, ended up sounding something like:

“whuzzahppend?”

“Ah, good, you’re back. We’re under attack, some of the other agents went rogue. “She grabbed for the wrist where her Vortex Manipulator was located. This had two consequenses. One: it made her scream out in pain and two: left her with the realisation that she didn’t have much of an arm left.

“Don’t worry, we’ve secured your VM, you’ll get it back later. Now let’s go to the infirmary.”

“No, you can’t! I won’t go in the tank, not again!” That thing had left nightmares after the last rogue snuck in. She’d get the artificial replacements instead.

“Sorry, it’s either that or dying, and I’m not having that on my watch. Don’t worry, I’ll put it on the best lock we’ve got, no-one will get to you.” She supposed that was agreeable. With all her business settled, perhaps now was a good time to pass out.

* * *

_Unknown, unknown._

Damn those little wall aliens; it seemed they had acquired the ability to knock her out cold as well. When she called for Rory, no answer was forthcoming. That usually meant trouble. Time to get up.

When Amy did open her eyes she found a grey ceiling staring back at her. Not the white one of her new house. So, either the blast had turned her home into a metallic sort of bunker or it had landed her somewhere else.

A second, more in-depth view confirmed her last suspicion. Though not a bunker, this place was definitely not the semi-detached from Leadworth she’d left behind. Aside from all the chrome, there were huge windows, looking down on structures that were not unlike the freight containers people used on ships. They were smoother and bigger than those though, some had stairs attached to them, or corridors leading to larger, more complex buildings. Which, aside from a couple of wonky looking towers and the occasional dome, looked as if they’d been stacked together like some five-year-old’s lego construction. All of it was dumped in a rocky landscape with a couple shrubberies to make it more habitable.

“Hello? Rory? Anyone there?”

 No response.

If there was one thing she’d learned from the Doctor, it was that when you were confronted with a strange situation, you were obliged to investigate. Even if that would most likely get you knee-deep into alien vomit.

While hobbling down the hallway and thanking whatever Gods out there that she wasn’t injured or attacked; Amy realized she probably wasn’t on Earth anymore either. Her best chance to get back now was reaching the Doctor. Too bad she’d left her cell phone in the kitchen and that, as far as she knew, the scanner couldn’t make calls. 

It was easy to see that this part of the place had gone through some serious rough patches, the walls were covered with burn marks, some had holes in them. Several of the windows were broken and every now and then, she found a skeleton lying around. She’d actually tripped over the first one and screamed when she realized what is was. A lovely, undignified girly scream, _be proud Pond,_ she’d thought, _You’ve been dealing with ridiculously dangerous aliens for about a year now and you still scream like a dumb chicken over a guy who can’t even attack you anymore.’_

Finally, after what felt like hours, she reached one of the larger compounds. One hall, lots of doors on different levels, framed by catwalks. All the holographic screens, they’d come on when she entered, had a language she didn’t even come close to understanding.

So, naturally, it seemed like a good idea to just start opening doors at random. Most were locked. The first one that wasn’t revealed a rather Spartan bedroom, she recognized a bed, but not much else. The other open rooms turned out to be almost exact copies of the first one.

After looking through them and taking an object that vaguely resembled a lamp as weapon, Amy continued down the left corridor. She was well aware that this place could be dangerous. If the people who lived here weren't outright violent, then at least a little edgy from all the fighting that had taken place.

The lighting the next hallway was broken and the constant drip of water did not put her at ease either. It was like one of those scenes from a horror movie and God, if there was something crawling on the ceiling this would be the end of her. Was that something slithering away in the corner of her eye? She could’ve sworn it disappeared into the wall. Then she heard it. A faint thumping in the distance.

Footsteps.

All of the sudden her investigation of the walls had turned into this frantic search for a hiding place. Never mind the maybes of something slithering away, someone was coming her way now.

A small alcove to her right looked promising. Making herself as thin as possible she slid in and held her breath. When the footsteps got to close she readied her 'weapon'. As it turned out, Amy wasn't the only one preparing herself because the thumps stopped and then there was a clicking noise she’d only ever heard near River: the sound of a gun being cocked.

Her mind was going through every swear word she’d ever learned but the rest of her body seemed stuck in place, waiting for the thing with the gun to come closer.

_Alright Amy, focus! When it moves through there, you’re going to pound it with all your might._

Finally she could see a shadow moving past the alcove. This was it, it had to be now! She was ready for anything, tentacles, monster faces, metal armors. She would see it coming.

Of course, things never work out that way, and before she could think it through, she was whacking her lamp on the one thing she didn’t expect to find here: a young guy in a 21st century suit. Her first blow made him drop the gun, the second probably gave him a concussion and the third might trouble his back in fifty years. When she heard an all-too-familiar “fuck!” she decided that maybe they could talk this over:

“You speak english?!”

“and you just hit me with a…a..what is that anyway?” He was quick at regaining his composure; she had to give him that.

“Not sure, I think it’s a lamp. You from around here?”

“Not unless we’re in Wales. Why are you trying to kill me?”

“’Cause I thought you killed everyone else around here…Did you?”

“There’s dead people here?” He seemed genuinely shocked and more importantly, not reaching for the gun.

“So, let’s try that again, where or better yet, when are you from and what are you doing here?” She lifted her lamp again.

“Cardiff, 2009. No idea what I’m doing here. I just sort of drifted along. Actually, I’m pretty sure I died.”

“Alright, that sounds….believable.”

At this point Amy could decide that this guy was the enemy and lose the only one who might be able to help her. On the other hand, she could give a bit of trust and end up dead if he did turn out to be a psycho.

Not one to play things safe, she held out her hand.

"Amy Pond. A pleasure to meet you mr..?”

The guy looked hesitant for a moment, possibly making the same assessment as she was. He got up, dusted himself off and shook her hand.

"Jones, Ianto Jones."

* * *

_Unknown, unknown._

Unlike Amy, Ianto wasn't quite so surprised to wake up in a different place as where he started from. Numerous Torchwood missions had made sure that he knew what to do next.

One: check your surroundings for danger.

The park he ended up in could hide lots of things, but so far, no immediate threats.

Two: where is your gun?

Safely holstered in his jacket, right where he'd left it, still fully loaded. Strange, since the last time he’d had the thing, it turned out he’d been some kind of ghost. Perhaps he still was and if he fired it at something, the bullet would do no harm. Then again, he had been able to touch Jack.

_Let’s not go into that snake pit now, Jones._

Testing this theory would have to wait until a dangerous situation came up though, gunshots would draw too much attention to his presence.

Three: find a way out.

That was going to be a bit trickier, him being surrounded by trees made it hard to determine where he should go. The answer was provided when he walked over to a small clearing and looked up. There was a roof, a round one with a downward curve, making this weird park part of some huge dome with, hopefully, an exit in the sides of it. Sighing to himself, he decided to follow the steepest curve; it would hopefully lead him to the edge of the structure.

 _It couldn’t just be a park-_ Ianto thought after walking through the damn thing for three bloody hours. - _no, it had to be a greenhouse as well._ He’d taken off the jacket and tie but was still practically melting in this hellhole. At least he could see the walls up ahead. Now all he had to do was follow those and walk until he reached a door.   

Luckily, that only took him another hour, and of course said door was locked. This was probably the best time to test his gun-theory, so he took aim and fired at what was most likely the lock. Finally, the tides were turning. His bullet had hit its target beautifully and with a small bleep the door slid open to reveal a cold, dark corridor.

He tried not to overthink the fact that he was more comfortable in this next place than the last, but couldn’t help wondering if this was the effect of working for Torchwood three too long. _You would actually choose dark damp sewers over sunlit parks nowadays, wouldn’t you? God Jones, you’re weird._ And if the voice sounded a bit too much like Owen chewing him out, well, then Ianto took that as a fact that he was still honouring his departed friend. _I’m not even sure if I’m not the departed one here._  

After hassling with the jacket and tie, _might as well make a good impression_ , He wandered on. Mildly disturbed but not really hindered by the darkness, looking towards the small light at the end of the tunnel. That is, until a scraping noise up ahead alerted him he wasn’t alone anymore. His Torchwood training stepped in immediately: he took out the gun, cocked it, and slowly moved forward. He was aware that this might not be more than a rat, but after being mauled by a Weevil, he’d developed this nagging feeling to be on guard. Ianto passed two small indents in the walls. The left one checked out, but before he could even turn to look at the right one, something heavy was dumped ungracefully on his arm, making him drop the gun.

It took him less than a second to realize that this was not a rabid weevil or anything truly dangerous, though the hit to his head wasn’t appreciated. A redhead. “Trouble.” His mother had said on one of her better days “you’d better not cross a redhead or you’ll be in trouble.”  Cursing because his gun had apparently decided to play hide and seek on him and those blows weren’t exactly soft, Ianto tried to get away from the crazy bitch.

Apparently swear words went a long way, because surprisingly, it halted the girl’s onslaught.

“You speak english?!”

He was actually about to ask her the same. Well, that was one obstacle out of the way. The next focus was on her weapon, which looked a lot less impressive when it wasn’t bashing in his skull.

“and you just hit me with a…a..what is that anyway?”

“Not sure, I think it’s a lamp. You from around here?” Though creative and Scottish, judging by the accent, the girl still seemed rather on edge. At least his question had caught her off guard enough to dampen the aggression.

“Not unless we’re in Wales. Why are you trying to kill me?”

“’Cause I thought you killed everyone else around here…did you?”

“There’s dead people here?” Crap. He’d just fired a gun not even a mile from here, if this place had predators hanging around, they would’ve caught his trail by now.

“So, let’s try that again, where or better yet, when are you from and what are you doing here?” Okay, not quite done with the violence yet.

“Cardiff, 2009. No idea what I’m doing here. I just sort of drifted along. Actually, I’m pretty sure I died.”

“Alright, that sounds….believable.”

Was she serious? This girl was trapped on god knows where, with a guy she’s never met and is just going to believe everything he says? While trying calculate the possibilities on whether or not he was walking into a trap the redhead managed to surprise him a second time: by introducing herself.

"Amy Pond. A pleasure to meet you mr..?”

There was no way she’d make it on her own, with her DIY weaponry, questionable twitchiness and rather astonishing naivety. If there was something around here killing things, she’d need his help. Before common sense supplied him with all the reasons why this was in fact a bad idea, he’d already made his decision.

"Jones, Ianto Jones."

“So, you’re Welsh then.”

“Yep. And you’re Scottish, right? D’you reckon the English put us here, revenge perhaps?”  She snorted a bit at that. Good, being calm was good, that way, when something did come out and try to kill them, she’d have less time to go panicky on him.

“Anything’s possible I suppose, but I think its aliens.” She’d said that a little too excited.

_Please don’t be a conspiracy theorist, please don’t be a conspiracy theorist, please don’t be…._

“Yeah? Why’s that then?”

“Come on, follow me, I’ll show you.”  That was her cue to start running down the corridor and he momentarily lost her, before turning the corner and…okay, that was convincing, a hall full of holographic screens all showing directions in Universal Standard.


	3. Watch this journey I take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, so, this took a helluvalot longer than expected, mostly due to my writers-angst about uploading it, but the story is now officially finished and I'll be updating it every week. 
> 
> Anyway, without further ado: Enjoy.

* * *

_Unknown, unknown._

The guy seemed to be entranced by her findings. He looked at each of the panels before pulling out a little notebook and writing something down. She had to move a little closer and stand on her tiptoes to figure out what it was. A map, he was making a map of this place. Clever.

“Can you read what they’re saying?”

“Yep.”

“So, Reading a language that doesn’t exist on earth. Not a very Cardiff, 2009 thing to do.”

“Yeah, uh, part of the job.”

“The job!?” If she wasn’t curious before, she definitely was now.

“Sure. Every government agent is supposed to know Russian.”

“I’m not stupid, I know this isn’t Russian.” _and you’re way too comfortable with this to be MI5._

“Never said it was.” It was childish to play a game of cat and mouse and Amy wasn’t having it. Time to put her best cards on the table.

“Look, I know this language is from the 32nd, 51st and 76th century, just because my bloody Time Lord didn’t teach me how to read it, doesn’t mean you can trick me into believing it’s ‘Russian’.” That last part was accented with beautifully crafted bunny ear fingers, just for clarity.

“Oh Christ, you know the Doctor?”

“How do you know about him?!”

“The job.” Oh, there he was again, with his mysterious job, if he was going to keep this up she would break out the lamp again. Mr. Jones must’ve seen that one on her face because within a split second, he was finally coming clean.

“Fine, I suppose if you know about the Doctor, it wouldn’t do much more harm to tell you. I’m Torchwood.”

“What’s a Torchwood?”  
“Torchwood is a secret organisation that handles extra-terrestrials and their artefacts to ensure the safety of the general population of Earth.”

 Wait. Was he messing with her? He seemed completely honest, and he had known about the Doctor. It all fit together, someone who would stay calm, even though he thought he was dead or trapped on some wacky space station. Someone who knew a language that didn’t even exist in their time.

“So, if I told you that I travelled through time in a blue police box while fighting off alien invasions, you wouldn’t think I’m crazy?”

“Nope.”

“Are you an alien?”

The only response that question got was a raised eyebrow. Obviously meant to signal a ‘duh, of course not’.

And okay, maybe hugging him wasn’t exactly her best idea ever, but this was the first person, aside from Rory (who didn’t count, because Rory would love her even if she decided to join the circus and become a bearded lady) who didn’t look at her like she was six shades of insane. Amy figured that her joy at finding someone like that, after living in a disbelieving world for so long, was actually quite tame. Ianto however, looked very, very uncomfortable at her display of affection and started stalking down the hallway almost immediately, leaving Amy to wonder where things went wrong.

* * *

He was curious to find out more about the corpses, but didn't want to spook his new friend when she was finally calming down a bit. Therefore the kitchen seemed to be a viable distraction. Not to mention that it would be wise to gather some supplies for later.

Ianto wasn't quite sure what had prompted her to hug him like that, but he'd made sure that she hadn’t stolen anything. Since nothing was missing he wondered what she was getting at. Maybe she was mentally unstable?

Or perhaps she'd just been happy that he knew about the Doctor?

Then she obviously didn't know about Torchwood, because he guessed that the redhead wouldn't appreciate their choice of a number one enemy.

He had opted to retcon her when they got back home but if she was indeed a Companion, it would be a) useless and b) considering the Doctor's temper, not advisable.

Of course, that's when Ianto realized he wouldn't be retconning anyone, what with being dead and all.

"Sooo, don't you want to know where I'm from?"

"I pretty much figured out that you're from Scotland, your clothing and mannerisms suggest that if you're not from 2009, it's not far off. Am I right?"

"Close, but no. I’ve lived in the lovely village of Leadworth for most of my life and it's 2011, not 2009.”

“Duly noted. Kitchen's through here."

It wasn't so much a kitchen as a place where you went to pick up your food, since the only object it held was a machine he recognised from the archives. Jack swore it would make food when working properly, but all he and Tosh could get it do was squirt nasty blue gue that would stick to the floor for days. However, after a couple of failed attempts, thankfully none involving gue, Amy managed to get it to understand what they wanted. While he didn't quite get why screaming 'English' at it thirty times in a row worked, he wasn't about to question the results. They piled up on the machine's version of energy bars and water before going back to the starting point.

"Are you seeing this?" she started "Last time we passed through here, the lights were brighter."

"Probably a night and day schedule to make up for the lack of a sun. I reckon it'll be different in the individual rooms. "

Turns out he was right, and once they managed to turn on the lamps there, it was actually quite doable. Something in the back of his mind yelled that it was stupid to take one room each and just sleep through the whole night, but right now he favoured a good solid rest, some peace of mind and a bit of privacy for the lady over the dangers that could come from splitting up.

Besides, he still had his gun.

Sadly though _and wasn’t that just typically Torchwood_ , he couldn’t get himself to sleep. Even after four bloody hours of tossing and turning, his senses refused to shut down. When the inevitable knock on his door came, he pulled out his gun without even meaning to.

“Whoah! okay, calm down there tiger, it’s just me!”

 Amy, it seemed, had trouble falling asleep as well.

“Look, I know we said different rooms would be more comfortable and all that, but really, I’m worried that something will come and eat me if I close my eyes.”

“Right. Of course, come on in then.”

“Thanks.” Apparently that was enough of an invitation for her to just saunter through the room and flop on the bed. He was glad that he’d decided not to take off his shirt before going to bed, because that would’ve made this whole situation even more uncomfortable.

“Pffff, this place is so different from the TARDIS, you know, even when we’d land in the middle of some sort of warzone, the doors were always locked so that pretty much nothing could get in.”

“Can’t say that I’m familiar with it.”

“You’re not much of a talker are you?” _Yes, unlike you_. He’d thought. It wasn’t polite, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood for small talk right now. It didn’t seem to dampen the redhead’s mood though, she just happily continued where she’d left off, not even waiting for him to answer.

“Anyway, There was this race on some planet whose name I’ve long since forgotten, they had these trunks, like elephants, but no eyelids, so they’d just wet their eyes using those trunks. That of course wouldn’t help when they went to sleep, so they’d never close their eyes, they’d just fall asleep seeing everything and then they’d….I am really not freaking you out am I? You were totally cool with the Doctor, the TARDIS and when I start randomly babbling about aliens, you still don’t look at me like I’m crazy, just vaguely annoyed.”

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty much used to it.” _You are not going to go nostalgic over Jack, not now._

“It’s just, there’s only one guy that I’ve met who didn’t go all weird when I’d talk about aliens.”

“Oh yeah? What happened to him then?”

“I married him.” Completely involuntarily, he smiled at that. Remembering what Tosh had said over Rhys’s involvement in Torchwood: they should find people who knew about the job. Looks like this little lady had figured out the same.

“What about you? You hitched?”

“Decidedly not.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not exactly.” A snort accompanied his answer.

“An ‘it’s complicated’ then.”

“Yeah, I think you just about summed it up right there.” He still didn’t have a clue what they were. _Had been Jones, had been. You’re dead now._ By now, it was pretty clear Jack had indeed loved him. It didn’t change the day-to-day reality of their thing, which had been deteriorating since Tosh and Owen died.

He’d found it increasingly difficult to help Jack cope with the loss of his friends and family. Aside from that, Ianto was completely out of his depth when it came to elevating the trauma of being buried alive for 2000 years. Finally, there was the problem that he himself wasn’t up to dealing with his dead friends either. He didn’t want to think about it, wanted to avoid it completely, it felt like the aftermath of the wharf.  All he could do was keep going, because if he stopped to think about it, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it, not again.

Jack had put up a brave face for Gwen, he always did. Unlike the other times though, he stopped talking to Ianto. Stopped spending time with him and when they did do so, he would get a wistful look in his eyes, like he was looking at Ianto’s tombstone instead of the man himself. Had Jack known what was going to happen? No, that’s one possibility he ruled out immediately, if there had been any information or a chance to prevent it, Jack would’ve stopped it. Perhaps he decided that losing Ianto would hurt less if he’d kept his distance.

_Bit too late for that._

Jack obviously hadn’t thought about Ianto in his brilliant plan to stay away. Because those emotions had already settled, he loved Jack and that was the end of it, period. No matter if he was going to live until he was twenty-eight or eighty.  It had been different with Lisa, he’d loved her. The whole white picket fence thing though, that was just something people expected. Not something he had particularly wanted, he hadn’t thought about a future back then, it was just there. At least, until it wasn’t. With Jack, he’d thought about it, worried over it. After the inevitable ‘I’m going to be dead before I’m thirty’ came the ‘will he still be with me when I’m sixty?’.

Now though, there was just that stomach turning ‘When will he move on?’ Christ, what happened to the days when they’d go to the pub with friends and his most pressing concerns were an over-eager boyfriend and public indecency.

* * *

 

_Oh crap, I just broke the only guy in a five hundred mile radius._

Ianto had been staring at the wall for the past five minutes or so and Amy didn’t know what to say to him. Not with that expression on his face. He looked like someone had just kicked his puppy in front of him. Okay, back up, the man obviously wasn’t up to talking about this yet. ‘It’s complicated’? Better make that an ‘it’s traumatic’.

“Hello? Ianto, you there? I’m sorry about that..I uhhh, won’t bring it up again.” No response. She touched his shoulder. That did the trick, at least partially. He was looking at her again.

“Let’s talk about something a bit less…depressing. How about your job?” He laughed at that, but it was a hollow, unhappy sort of laugh.

“You really don’t want to go there.”

“No, but I mean, you know how alien devices work right?” Amy had been aware of the scanner since the moment she’d sat down on the bed. The thing had been safely tucked away in her back pocket ever since she landed. 

“Now, have you ever seen one of these!” cue dramatic introduction of the scanner. For one terrible moment, she was afraid he’d retreat back into himself again but…

Hook, line and sinker!

He was actually distracted by her little gizmo! She gave it to him and Ianto started turning it in his hands, examining it like he’d done this sort of thing a million times before.

“No, can’t say that I have. What is it?”

“A scanner for the unusual, don’t ask me how it works, because I have better understanding of Ood mating rituals than these sorts of things.”

“This is pretty amazing; I can see they put in some sort of security, if I wanted to crack it open it would probably lock the insides to make sure none of the systems are compromised. But these buttons on the top, they don’t match the material of the rest. Were they added later?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” The Doctor did like to ‘upgrade’ his stuff, using whatever bits he had lying around.

“So it scans the surroundings?”

“Yes! I think it looks at whatever doesn’t belong in the environment. Like uh, well in this case us!” She made him hold up the scanner towards her, and sure enough it started beeping. Amy decided that she was awesome, because that last move put a little smile on Ianto’s face.

 “D’you think it would work on a pteranodon?”

“Depends I guess. Why do you ask?”

“I ah, used to have one back at Torchwood, her name was Myfanwy, we always had a bit of trouble finding her when she flew off.”

“You had a pet dinosaur?! My aunt wouldn’t even let me have a puppy. Neither would the Doctor for that matter.” Goodbye shy smile, hello full blown smirk!

“You know, I think I can get this thing to react if it picks up a living being. I reckon if we put it in front of the door it’ll alert us to any trespassers.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So we could, you know, get some sleep.”

“ooohh, yes! My my, what brains you have, Mr. Jones. Wait, doesn’t that mean we’d need to sleep in the same room?”

“yep. I could maybe take the floor…”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not going to do anything if you’re not. You’re not, right?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Later, when they finally worked out how to turn off the lights, placed the scanner near the door and were lying rather awkwardly back to back in the bed. Amy decided that maybe there was one thing she still needed to say to her knight in slightly dented armour.

“Hey Ianto?”

“hmmm?”

“If you ever feel like talking about your ‘it’s complicated’ just let me know, okay?”

“Will do. And Amy?”

“yeah?”

“Thanks for this.”

“Anytime mate, anytime.”


	4. Crawling in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, kids, this is where it gets complicated. Or rather, I really hope it doesn't get too complicated. In this chapter some Miracle Day details will be discussed and I have tried to write it in such a way that even non-watchers with a wikipedia page can understand what's going on. Anyway, enjoy the story, but let me know if things are unclear.

* * *

_Washington DC, 2011._

He was so shitfaced.

 He was so incredibly shitfaced and this horrible excuse for a bed was keeping him up. Well, not really up, since whatshisname had taken care of that problem about an hour ago. Bill? Brian? fell asleep after a pretty disappointing round of sex.   

What was so great about mortality again?

Oh right, you got to stay dead.

Anyway, he’d decided to call Gwen, which seemed like a good idea at the time, because wasn’t she his best _better make that only_ friend in the whole fucking universe and didn’t she have a bleeding heart for every sad idiot that crossed her path?

Apparently not, because she was now cooing over her daughter in the background. _  
_

_Work, my ass. That was about as work-related as Weevil hunting with Ianto._  

He threw his phone across the room, never bothering to keep things quiet. After all, it was not like mr. Hotshot next to him was going to wake up anytime soon. Not with the amount of retcon in that last bit of whiskey.

And the bed, it was probably the most uncomfortable bed in the entire western hemisphere. Jack had slept on floors that were better for his back than this piece of crap. Now, Ianto’s bed, that had been comfortable, a bit fluffy, with just the right amount of bounce for some interesting manoeuvres.

Except he’d never even so much as seen Ianto’s bed. Hell, he never got much further than the hallway, which had been during that month after Lisa. There had definitely not been any kind of bounciness back then and afterwards, they’d always gone back to the hub or a convenient back alley if they were feeling particularly handsy.

Damnit, why was he thinking about his old employee again! It had been happening several times a day for a while now. Ever since he came back to Earth, it was Ianto this, Ianto that. 

None of it made sense. Sure, he thought about Toshiko and Owen sometimes, when he came across things they loved, or hated but he was thinking about the young Welshman almost constantly now. He’d been through losing loved ones before, the ones you lost most recently were everywhere, while the older ones would just stay in the back of your head.

Ianto had died during that whole mess with Abbadon, why was he such a big deal now? Yes, it was tragic. Yes, he’d been broken up about it, but it was quite tame compared to his experiences with the Master and then after that, all that shit in 1927.

The memories themselves weren’t right either. No, that wasn’t true, they were too right. Heck, they were amazing, from the ones about the great sex, to those where they’d be watching TV on the couch, to the ones where Ianto would scold at him for leaving laundry on the floor of his _their_ apartment. It gave him a sense of belonging, of home. The only downside was that none of it had ever happened.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by something warm at his thigh. His one-night stand had made the mistake to roll over and try to cuddle up against him. While pushing Ben off, Jack decided that he should probably get dressed and go back to the dingy house his ‘teammates’ called HQ.

* * *

_Leadworth, 2011_

“Christ! are you still down there?!”

 “Of course I am, Jeff. Now, did you bring that V8 engine with you?”

 “Yeah, yeah, no need to get your knickers in a twist. I’m putting it next to the door. There’s no way I’m entering that death-trap!”

  _Probably for the best, you’d just trip over and break something if you did._ Rory thought while adjusting another wire in the conductor. It would be hell to get the entire engine down to the basement, but since he only needed the pistons, he could just disassemble the thing upstairs and bring the necessary components with him.

 He shouldn’t forget to clean up the rest though _._ They nearly kicked him out the last time bits and pieces were lying all over the living room. It wasn’t a real problem though. He liked Mrs. Angelo well enough; after all, she was the only one who’d taken him in when he’d ran from home seven years ago.

 Yes, okay, so running away to live four blocks from your original home wasn’t very effective, but by then his parents had been so fed up with him that they’d just let him go. The Williams family were normal people, who did normal things and their strange son was so far from it that they just couldn’t deal anymore.

 Never mind his dubious past, he had more pressing matters to attend to.  It had taken him almost seven years to assemble his machine and even longer to design the whole thing, but now he was almost ready.  The entire basement was cramped with wires, accumulators, chargers, EEG recording nets and some average household items like spoons and a DVD recorder. All of it built with one purpose: to bring back what he knew he’d lost.

 A girl.

 A redheaded girl. A feisty, sweet, adventurous, beautiful redheaded girl he’s loved all his life but whose name he can’t even remember.  Whisps of something here and there, that’s it. Sometimes he almost thinks she was with him on the first day of school or that she was the one who told him to climb that dangerously high tree when he was nine. At first his parents deemed it healthy that he had an imaginary friend, then less so. When he started designing machines to find her, they’d sent him to a psychiatrist. He hadn’t complained, had told the man the truth and came back every week like they wanted him too. Rory had even tried the pills they gave him to make her ‘go away’. Pills he knew wouldn’t work. When it turned out that those made him horribly sleepy and dull, he decided they were better off with the toilet. His parents never figured it out.

 She was real. That’s why none of the medication worked, that’s why she grew older like he did and that’s why he began building a machine that would help him remember her. Maybe when he found out what her name was, he could go looking for her.

 Now, he still had a couple of things on his shopping list. He needed some monitoring avionics, some focal plane arrays and a chain gun. He’d saved these components for last, not only because they were the most difficult to acquire, but because getting them would need some less than legal work.

 He was going to break into a military base and steal their stuff.

 It would be his first crime. No matter what he had needed for the machine, he would always require it legally. He’d never nicked anything, not even as a kid. It was a bold move, which was why he had finished the rest of the machine first: if the police would be looking for him after this, he wouldn’t have much time to finish it, nor would he be able to leave his basement anymore. That’s why it was imperative that he could just slot in the illegal parts and start the damn thing immediately. He would find her, whatever happened afterwards was irrelevant.

 

* * *

_Washington DC, 2011._

Another downside of being mortal, Jack found out the next morning, were hangovers. Gwen was talking about the next step in their plan. Though he didn’t think that there was an actual plan to speak of, for the most part everyone just seemed to be yo-yoing around. Even the damn CIA hadn’t come to the conclusion that maybe they needed to do a structural examination of the situation.

Well, he was tired of spelling everything out for them. These people were supposed to be professionals. Gwen had to have paid attention to one of the billion times when Toshiko and Ianto were figuring out the stages of their research. He missed his two brainiacs, had enjoyed teaching them whatever he knew about alien artefacts, but even that was nothing compared to watching them puzzle and analyze until they came to right conclusion in record time. Owen would pitch in when it was a medical problem and Gwen would throw in her police knowledge when she thought it was useful.

Unlike now, where everyone was talking and no-one would listen to what the others were saying. 

He wasn’t interested in calming this rabble, trying to will away his headache seemed like a more fruitful activity. The last time he’d had a hangover like this was during his training at the Agency. He remembered a particular instance where the grandmaster was nattering on about temporal disturbances, while John quietly puked in the bag of one the other students.

_...”of course, the Time Agency has a lot of technology at their disposal for finding and dissolving a disturbance, but even out in the field you can manually spot a mishap in time.”_

_John looks even greener than he did before and Jack is silently counting down the time until he breaks. If he asks the grandmaster for a leave now, they’ll record him with another misdemeanour in drinking, but if he doesn’t, he’ll be barfing in class and that will get him in rehab for sure. Yeah, Jack is hung over too, but at least he stopped after his seventeenth hypervodka .his friend however, had still been happily snorting Stardust at that point._

_“First, you can spot faults in the timeline by gaps or overflows of memories. As an Agent you’re trained to have a sturdy mind, you’ll remember different events where others won’t. This is your clue that something is happening. ”_

_John isn’t just green now, he’s as white as a sheet._

_“Secondly, temporal disturbances are usually caused by a malevolent individual. Can someone tell me how you can use this to track down the problem?”_

_The girl sitting in front of John sticks her hand up._

_“Yes, Angelica?”_

_“Because the individual will gravitate positive events towards themselves. If you look for the person who benefits the most, you’ll find your perpetrator.  
John, despite almost keeling over, manages to mutter something about android knowitalls who exist solely to bother him. Apparently, that has given him an idea. He slowly pulls the girl’s bag toward him and picks it up. _

_“Very good. now in order to catch the disturber, you’ll need to be diplomatic. Threatening them will only lead to more temporal unrest, because they can just undo whatever violence you do to them. More often than not, emphasizing with them will lead you to their source of power.”_

_Jack is desperately trying to hold back his laughter while John spits up the last of his stomach contents and nonchalantly puts the bag back where he found it. When class is over, they both skid out before the result of their night out is found._

Now those were some good times, he recalled. Watching John nurse a hangover was one of the funniest things in the universe.  He would dig himself in deeper and deeper while trying to get rid of it. Sure, Jack could’ve helped, but this was John. You didn’t help John. However, when Ianto had had a hangover after a particularly fun rugby match, Jack had actually taken the day off to stay with him and…

_That never happened, Harkness!_

What was wrong with him?! Why did he keep doing this?

_You’ll remember different events where others won’t. This is your clue that something is happening._

The memory hit him so hard that he lost his balance and promptly fell out of the chair.  Despite the fact that his headache had just gone from mildly disturbing to in-need-of-medication and that the entire room was looking at him like he was the dog who pissed on the carpet, he felt better than he had in months. 

“euhm, right, don’t mind me, that sounded like a great plan, keep it up!”

They turned back and started arguing all over again. Looking at them, Jack decided that it would be more efficient if he just did this investigation on his own.

 


	5. Woman on a mission.

* * *

_Unknown, unknown._

The next morning was less bleak at least and quite good at best. After plundering their supplies once more, they began making a plan on where to go next.

"I was wondering if you could show me those bodies you mentioned."

"Really? It's not exactly pretty; I'd just rather not go back there if I don't have to."

"I know a thing or two about corpses, thought it might help us figure out what's going on here."

"'Suppose it's alright. Just don't expect me to go all CSI on them or anything."

Ten minutes later, Amy found herself trying to dig a bullet out of a half decomposed body that may or may not have been human.

"Ahhh Jesus, I am telling you, there is no bullet, it's. Just. A. Hole." She said, after swallowing another gag.

"And I've told you that that's impossible, the impact suggests a projectile." Then he was back to cutting up his own bit of dead.

Whatever comeback she had was lost when some of the flesh landed on her shirt, urging her to run to the corner and re-meet her breakfast.

Ianto, bastard that he was, had the audacity to mention that at least now she didn't have to worry about sicking all over the bodies anymore.

After a very satisfying two-finger salute she decided that if the obstinate Welshman was so hellbent on looking for imaginary bullets, at least one of them should be doing something useful.

Amy thought herself pretty spy-like. Sneaking off like that without Ianto noticing. That is, until:

"Meet you back here in an hour then, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure, you have fun with the dead folks!"

He smiled in a way that said 'of course I will' and happily went back to his business. He was certainly a bit of a weirdo, but in a fun, non-threatening kinda way. Still, it was probably best to stay on the man’s good side.

She wandered down the hall, past endless amounts of windows, each more damaged than the last. To turn the scenery into something a bit more pleasant, she took a couple of lefts here and there. Eventually this route landed her in front of a fascinating door. It had lights running all along the posts.

"This I've got to see."

By now they had pretty much figured out how to open doors, even if this one was a bit stuck. After struggling past a half open door and stumbling over some equipment she ended up hitting her head against a rather devious pillar.

That was why, at first, she thought it was brain damage conjuring up the images in front of her. Once she was able to focus her eyes again, she realised that the wall with giant glass tubes, each about the size of a person were real. All of them ripped open and completely destroyed on the inside. The people trapped in those tubes had been dragged out, cut up and left on the spot. What she had assumed to be a brown painted floor was soon becoming a grizzly horror on its own.

Unlike the bodies in the hallway, these creatures didn’t have one or two holes, nor were they dried out, like those had been. They were still fresh, as if the destruction had only just happened.

_Ohgodohgodwhatisthiswhowoulddosuchathing?_

There was no thought, no reasoning, just instinct taking over. Fight or flight. She couldn’t see the danger, didn’t know when it would strike again and the only thing her mind provided was an endless litany of _Run!_

* * *

 

Well, this certainly was peculiar, there were no bullets in any of the bodies, nor could he find any cases to indicate that someone shot either. He was going to have to apologize to Amy when she got back.

_Speak of the devil._

“I suppose I owe you an...” Instead of slowing down like he expected her too, she ran right past him and didn’t even look back. A chase then.

“Amy, stop it! Hey. Hey! Whoa, what the hell are you doing?!” Halfway down the hall, he managed to grab her by the arm and finally, some eye contact.

“I can’t….you don’t…Something is out there! It’s a massacre. We can’t stay here!” Bloodshot eyes and erratic breathing. If she was going to keep this up, he’d have to deal with a full-scale panic attack.

“Calm down. Look at me, just look at me. Keep breathing. In and out, that’s it. Now explain to me what happened.” Whatever it was, he would need to prepare for the worst. This girl hadn’t backed down from an armed Torchwood agent. If she was scared, it was serious.

“The room with the light-door, there are fresh bodies there, hundreds of them, completely torn apart. Something is killing people.” Fuck, just what he wanted to hear. Well, it would be best if they just handled this thing now. He didn’t feel like being hunted down for however long he had to stay here.

“Alright then, let’s get this sorted. Show me where you found it.”

The room was every bit as horrible as Amy’s panic had indicated. He was getting flashbacks to those cannibals again. Luckily though, his redhead had gotten at least one thing wrong.

“These people didn’t die recently. The room was sealed air tight; they haven’t had the chance to decompose. Whatever did this hasn’t been in here for a while now.” That at least urged her to let go of his arm, giving him the freedom to explore the place a bit further.

It wasn’t a mindless carnage either, these were precise incisions. Neat pockets of space where organs used to be. Some were missing eyes, some their livers and others were missing more than one body part.  He began running his hands past some of the walls, trying to find a control panel or a holoscreen, really anything that might reveal what happened here and why.

Once his hand skimmed a particular groove, light began glowing around it and from there , in small lines, to a metal tube in the wall. A computerized voice began reciting data in Universal Standard. Never having heard it in practice, Ianto couldn’t follow what was being said.

When the tube began to slide open, he pulled out his gun. Amy, still shocked from her discovery, hid behind him and peered out to the thing. 

First the floor flooded.             

Next thing, he was staring into angry eyes and the barrel of a very odd looking gun.

“Put that weapon down!” His Torchwood training kicked in again the moment he spotted danger.

Completely drenched coat, Blond hair, average height and about ready to commit a murder. He realized that this might be a tad more difficult than convincing Amy to drop the lamp.

“I said put it-”

“Shut up.”

Ianto was baffled by her abrupt interruption, but not enough to give up on trying to disarm her.

When he tried to move, she cut him off again.

“Don’t! Move!"

It was a strange situation, with both the woman and Ianto having their weapons not five inches away from each other. Perhaps it was because Amy was the only one not holding a gun, but the girl was obviously determined to make another brave attempt at communication.

“Look, maybe if we could…”

“Shut up, I need to think.”

“Put the gun down and you can think all you like.” Ianto was trying to stay calm, the woman, however, wasn’t making it easy.

“No, you don’t understand, I need to know that you’re not…That this isn’t…damn it!” The woman took one good look around, twisted her face into an ugly grimace and returned to their conversation.

“Who did this?!”

“We don’t know, we only just got here and there was no-one here, well, no living people anyway, so- ” Amy’s motor mouth wasn’t doing anything to remedy the situation. So, Ianto made an executive decision and put his hand over the lower half of her face.

The woman walked to one of the corpses in the corner, _presumably a friend,_ crouched next to it and talked in Universal for a while.  The gun was now aimed in the general direction of the right wall, relaxing Ianto beyond measure. Even if it was quite heartbreaking to see.

“You’re not enemies.” A general statement, rather than a question.

“I don’t believe so. Mostly, we’re just lost.”

That was the last coherent thing she said for about half an hour. It seemed to take ages before she composed herself again. Amy was sitting on her hunches next to the woman but was just as lost as Ianto, who felt helpless. At the same time, he didn’t think it was safe to drop his gun just yet.

“Hey, hey, listen, I know it’s hard and...and almost impossible, but there is nothing you can do for them. Why don’t we get out of here for a moment?” That was Amy, still trying to get the stranger to listen.

Slowly she nodded and stood up with the redhead’s help. Even though Ianto felt awful for the woman, knowing what it felt like to find your loved ones dead, all attempts to help her just slipped away. Like water in his hands.

Once they reached the bedrooms, the woman sat down and began responding to their questions. Ianto hoped that she could help them find their way back after all.

* * *

 

Her first reaction to them was that they were obviously innocent. While the clothing could have fit a couple of rogues, the locks on the recovery tank made it clear that these people were not a threat. Now that she was capable of putting her dead co-workers in the back of her head, she could go on and find out which bastard did this. First things first though.

“Who are you?” she sounded awfully raspy. Better find a glass of water somewhere.

“Amy Pond.” The girl said. Comically at the same time as the man told her that he wasn’t sure they should give her their names. Not even professionals then, although the guy was still pointing that ancient gun at her.

“Listen, I really don’t know what you think I’ll do with your names, but fine, don’t tell me. I’m more curious to find out where you’re from and how you got here.” 

The redheaded girl was going into a lengthy tale about kitchens, aliens, the 21st century and suddenly ending up here. While the dark-haired man was still staying silent.

“What about you? What’s your story?”

“He hunts aliens.” followed by an irritated “Amy!” Definitely not the trusting type, that one.

_Pull yourself together, Angie, if you want to find out what’s going on here, step up your damn game._

“So you don’t know what this place is?”

“Nope.” Amy was still doing all the talking.

“Alright then, welcome to the Time Agency.” _Gotcha, big guy. That hit a nerve, didn’t it?_ His eyes had gotten big and he was suddenly looking at the room like it was some sort of holy ground. He even began asking questions.

“What year is this?”

“How about we play that question game - I get to ask one and you’ll answer it, and then you get to do the same. Deal?” Letting him consider the proposition was probably the only way this wouldn’t end up in a bloodbath.

“Deal.” _Now we’re getting somewhere._

“To answer your question, This isn’t any year. We are officially one millisecond out of time.”             
  
“How’s that work?” Amy again.

“No can do, I get to ask now. So, tall and broody, what’s your name?”

“Ianto Jones. What’s yours?”

“Angelica Vex. You hunt aliens. Which organisation are you?”

“Torchwood. What is it you do?” That was interesting. So he was a professional, and one from Torchwood of all places. Keeping him close would get her qualified help.

“I’m a Time Agent.”


	6. The storm is a'coming.

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

This was surreal. A woman coming out of that bloodbath with the intention of shooting them both. Then, all of the sudden she was sort of exchanging information with Ianto. Sort of being the keyword, because it was a ridiculous push and pull on both sides of the conversation. Neither one of them was willing to give up too much information, the result was that now they were both talking about the structural integrity of the place.

Amy didn't get it. What had happened to being an inconsolable wreck not ten minutes ago?

"So it's basically a giant crystal? Carbon growing naturally in the shapes you want them to."

"Kind of, but remember that it takes quite a bit of work to program it to grow in these shapes at an accelerated pace."

"Fascinating." Ianto's eyes lit up, but not quite as much as when she had shown him the scanner. He was still on guard. Amy couldn't handle this, this tense situation where no-one was really saying anything.

"How come you’re not dead like the others?" There. They wouldn't dance around the subject now.

Ms. Vex got a dark look in her eyes. Ianto just rolled his eyes.

"I only survived because I was paranoid and injured. My friend, that'd be the charred corpse in the right corner back there, did me a favor. He locked my recovery tank so that no-one with bad intentions or black-listed DNA would be able to open it .You two apparently don't have that and so here I am!"

"Why did you want the tank locked?" Halleluja, Jones was finally getting into the interrogation mood.

"Because, every once in a while Agents defect, decide that the money is better on the wrong side of the galaxy. Some become mercs, some start conning innocent straightliners, others become thieves.”

"Sorry to interrupt, but what's a straightliner?" Amy wasn't a Time Agent, nor a Torchwood operative, so they were just going to have to get used to her asking stupid questions.

"Someone who lives their life in a straight line, no time travel involved."

"Ah." She filed that away for later. The Agent continued like she was never even interrupted in the first place.

“Those thieves have two choices. The Agency holds a lot of valuable tech, they could steal that but it's hard to get to, superb security and all that. A more viable option is to raid the med-bay for A-class organ donors. Every operative has to be in top condition and the nutrition here is made specifically to create very sturdy bodies. A Time Agents liver will function for about 200 years and is worth its weight in gold."

"So I take it you were one of those organ donors?" And didn’t that just sound like a nightmare come true.

"Yes, I woke up while being dragged from the tank to have my kidneys removed. Unsedated of course, it would've taken too long otherwise. Once the bastards had taken off with my bits, I was found by the medics. Lucky too, Would've bled to death if they had taken much longer. Since then, I haven't been quite as enthusiastic about it."

"So how come you ended up in that thing again?" While Amy was still processing the story, Ianto was already back on the inquisition tour.

"It was a bomb. Rogues blew up a hallway not far from here, along with the only peace-loving grandmaster this place had left and my entire arm. A medic put me in here. That's all I know. "

"Is it possible those thieves are still here?" She really needed to figure out if there was any risk of her ending up like the people in there.

"Not likely, but I can't be sure until I get to the control room." Ianto looked over to Amy, searching for any sign of insecurity. Apparently, if she was ready to take the risk of trusting the stranger, he’d be willing to as well.

_How am I supposed to know?  you’re the pro on this._

She conveyed the question back at him with her eyes, and he, understanding what she was trying to say, gave a short nod for the go-ahead.

Amy nodded back at him and they wordlessly allowed the Agent to get up and lead them to whatever was hidden in the complex.

* * *

The two strangers seemed to have reconciled their differences over her and agreed to go to the control room. She was grateful for them, in a way. If they hadn’t come along when they did, she would’ve been trapped in that tank for God knows how long. It would be best to send them home, perhaps not even wiping their memory. The man was Torchwood, so no matter when he was born, he was used to weird. The girl was, if not completely insane, then at least a bit peculiar and seemed ridiculously well adjusted to the situation, so Angelica doubted that wiping her mind would do any good.

Walking down the corridors revealed that aside from clearing up the bodies in the med-bay, she would need to go through every nook and cranny of this place to make sure none of her old colleagues would be forgotten.

Her entire home ruthlessly destroyed and left behind with nothing but the haunted memories of the past. What was she supposed to do now? Reach out to the active Agents that weren’t present during the attack? That might be dangerous; she had no idea who orchestrated this massacre. Find the perpetrators herself? Then what? She’d still be alone against God knows how many expert Agents.

  _Agents who can actually aim, instead of just firing shots at empty space._

Torchwood had a gun back there, perhaps he’d be of some use. Right now though, he didn’t look like he was feeling very helpful.

God, how was she ever going to fix this.

_Focus Angie, you’re not going to help anyone by being overwhelmed. Control room first, planning later._

A walk to the control room would take at least five hours, so she was happy to find that the teleporters were still intact. Her new companions seemed quite taken with the idea of just translocating from one end of the facility to the next. Especially the guy, who was apparently still bitter over some walk from the botanic garden to the recruit rooms.

“Bloody hell, why do they even have hallways when there’s stuff like this available?” Amy was a curious little bird, flittering everywhere and anywhere to make sure she missed nothing.

“Malfunctions, probably.” Ianto looked like the grounded type and kept the girl under control when she would go off on unrealistic tangents.  Angelica saw it though, that sparkle in his eyes. He was still capable of experiencing the wonder in things.

Her hopes that the password to the control room hadn’t changed were not left hanging. It would have been really difficult to get a grasp on the situation if she couldn’t get to the security feeds.

Entering this area always left her feeling like a master of destiny. There were so many possibilities created in this small circular room, so many criminals caught on the large 360 degree holoscreens and so many people helped with the single stroke of a button. Best of all: she knew exactly how to play these systems. It was a marvel every time.

“Interface, set standard language: English.”

“Standard language is now English” a bodyless voice comfirmed.

“There, now you two can understand what’s happening around here too.” A small gesture, one that would hopefully earn her their trust. Amy looked especially happy to be able to read again.

Angelica walked over to the c-shaped panel in the middle, booted up the computers and started digging around in the security images. For a long time it was just the same footages over and over again. Dead bodies, slumped against the floors, slowly rotting away. Until seven months ago, apparently that was how long she had been in the tank. The stark images had captured nothing new, just a couple of rogues paired up with some alien mercenaries trying to beat down an army of Time Agents. The only unusual thing was that they appeared to be winning. Not because of their own greatness, because she saw several stupid moves that should have gotten them killed twice over. It was the Agents themselves who seemed unrealistically sloppy, uncoordinated and just a bit too trigger happy. Had the intruders put a sedative in the air? A ventilation scan of the time period suggested that wasn’t the case. So what then?

“Why aren’t they putting up defensive barriers between them and the enemy?” Angelica jumped up at the sound of Ianto’s voice. He’d sidled closer and was now looking over her shoulders to assess the attack.

“I don’t know, it’s strange, they seem less focussed than usual. They were trained better than this.”

“Seems like it’s not just an outside force that killed your friends.” Yes, she had come to the same conclusion as he had; something must’ve been altered before the battle began. Someone must’ve gotten in and changed things to make the Agents behave that way.

She tried to think back to that particular day, it was all a bit hazy: the events of the attack ruined most memories of what had happened before. Or did they? She vaguely remembered feeling rather irritable over small things, things that usually didn’t bother her. There was no reason for her to have felt that way. What had been influencing her.  
“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe we can find some help away from here? As in, back home. I have a rather smart Time Lord friend who might be interested in this.” That was Amy, standing in the back, looking uncertain of herself. Angelica felt like smacking her forehead. Of course the girl wanted to go home, this place was a tomb, in a far future that she had no knowledge about. Besides, the promise of a Time Lord was very fetching.

“I wouldn’t particularly count on the Doctor, but at least Torchwood will help.” Ianto seemed a bit defiant towards Amy’s idea, which in turn made the girl look even more uncertain.

“Alright, whatever the help, I’ll see if I can get you home from here.” She walked to one of the safes that were embedded in the wall. Filled in the security code and pulled out her prize.

“Now these babies will get you home safely, though it’s a bit of a rough ride.” Two shiny new vortex manipulators, about to be given to almost complete strangers. She’d be court-martialled if a grandmaster ever found out.

“I…I’ve seen these before, where did you get them?” The Welshman looked like he had seen a ghost.

“We make them.”

Ianto mumbled  “This is really it then.” And promptly hid behind a blank look. When Angelica began putting the VM’s around their wrists, he huffed and went even paler.

“If you could just set the date you came from here, like this. That’s right. I’m going to establish a way for you to travel.” She tried to pick the least troublesome route and the most precise travel coordinations to make sure that this would run smoothly.

“Wait! Wait! I can’t leave, I mean, I think I’m dead.” Here she was, thinking Ianto was the normal one of the two.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was dead, a ghost, before I came here. I might still be actually; I don’t know what will happen if you send me back.” Where did this nonsense come from? Whatever, she’d best get rid of it before it got worse. Angelica walked back to the panel and set up a biometric scan.

“Alright, look here. You have a perfectly healthy body, no disturbances in energy, no weird diseases, nothing.”

“How do I know that thing’s not lying?” Really, was he going to go into this?

“It isn’t, it’s working properly, you can check the wiring if you like. Before you ask, yes, we’ve dealt with tricksters before, yes, this thing is foolproof. So, congratulations Mister Jones, you are 100 percent alive.”

It didn’t wipe the miffed look off his face, but at least it shut him up. 

“Right then, getting back to the time travelling. You’re all strapped on, everything is set. Anyone want to say anything before I shoot you off into space?”

“When we get home, I’ll come visit you in Cardiff, okay?” Amy actually sounded truthful, it was sweet. They had only been here for a day or so and had already gotten attached to one another.

Ianto, for his part, had an honest, fond smile on his face and said “I’ll see you in two years then!”

That’s when Angelica activated the manipulators.

* * *

 

Nothing had happened.

_Nothing!_

He was still standing in the same room, there had been a flash of light, but then he was right back in this place. Something had gone wrong. Amy looked confused for a bit and then disappointed, while Angelica was furiously typing away at the panels.

“What the...Why aren’t you sending them back, I did everything right. All vectors are in place, the coordinates are correct, this should be working, damn it!” She walked over to them and started fiddling with her own vortex manipulator. Then disappeared momentarily in a flash of her own, only to return to the place where she started from.

That procedure repeated itself three times before the blonde started cursing in some alien language.

“This isn’t possible, I can’t get into the Bronze age, the Stone age, not even the Paleozoic.”

“Wait, what’s that mean?” Ianto had no idea what was going on around here. The answer to his question did come, but not from the Time Agent, who was mashing on the keyboards so hard she didn’t even notice him. It was Amy who surprised them all with an unexpected insight.

“Generally, Time-travellers aren’t interested in those stuffy old dates because there isn’t much to gain comparing to the risk of wiping out mankind by stepping on something. Most of the travelling goes to later, more interesting, eras. Which is why it’s unlikely that the timeline is in flux there. That in turn means you should almost always be able to travel to it.” 

_Looks like travelling with the Doctor isn’t a complete waste of time after all._

“Top of the class Pond, now let’s see how good you are at quantum physics!” Angelica yelled from a corner of the room while she opened a plate at the side of the main console. She ducked down to see what was happening before motioning them to come over.

“See! There is nothing missing right? No loose plugs, no stray wires. Can you spot anything?”  The system looked flawless. When they shook their heads, Angelica was rushing ahead again.

“Follow me.” They practically ran to the teleporter.

The other end of the teleporter turned out to be an archivists dream come true. Rows upon rows of data storage devices, each capable of projecting God knows how many books, reports and research papers. He couldn’t stay to admire it for too long, because Amy and Angelica had already made their way towards the centre.

There, on a strange plateau lay the holographic image of a large book. The Time Agent was standing in front of it, watching in horror.

He approached the women and finally saw what their shocked expressions were all about. The letters in the book were changing, rearranging themselves. Once they seemed settled, the process started all over again, making it impossible to read the words.

Angelica called up another book and then another. Each was showing the same strange shuffling.

“I can’t…how…I…I…he said this could happen, but it’s impossible. These books are secured. Whatever is happening, it’s big. Too big. These history books are locked, they don’t change when the timeline does. I can’t make out where the past went and what happened to the future. It’s like the whole of time has gone mad.”

She sat down on the steps, looking utterly defeated for the second time today. The woman had to be knackered; she just had to be, waking up after seven months to find out that her entire world had apparently been turned upside down.

 Well, if there was one thing Ianto was good at, it was getting obstinate Time Agents to rest.

“Angelica, am I right in assuming that since we’re not in the time stream, we have plenty of time to fix things, before going back to find the root of the problem?-” A nod. “-How ‘bout we go get some rest now and start thinking about solutions tomorrow, yeah?” Angelica took a deep breath, rubbed her face and stood up.

“I suppose so. But if you two are staying here, then I suggest you take a shower and put on some clean clothes, because honestly, you reek.” After the greenhouse, the corpses and the running around, Ianto had no problem believing that.

Amy, who had been staying in the back for a bit, was actually smiling at the prospect of that.

They were taken to another set of rooms, much like those of the previous night, but bigger and with a better view of the facilities.

“These are the officers’ quarters, you can find clean clothes by tapping on that right wall there and the shower is through here.” She gave them a brief explanation on how to work the taps and locks on the doors but wasted no time trying get away from them.

“I’ll be in the third room from here if you need me. Though I’d appreciate if you’d leave me be for bit, I uh, think I need some time alone.”

Grieving on your own wasn’t very healthy, but Ianto figured he could at least honour her request after she went through all that trouble to get them home. Besides that, he was thrilled at the prospect of a shower, some clean clothes and a bit of privacy.

The promised clothing turned out to be rather official. Him and Amy both took turns in judging it.

“This will never stay white. First speck of dirt that comes along and it will be useless.” He’d seen it in Torchwood, everything that wasn’t a) dark or b) of sturdy material would be ruined within a week.

“I look like a soldier, a very bleached soldier.” It was true, Amy really did look like she was about ready to shave her head and pick up a gun with those pants and that shirt. He himself wasn’t much better off.

“I’m going to have to get used to the boots.” It had been a long time since he’d had army boots. He’d thrown out his last pair when he graduated from high-school.

“Would you look at this!” Amy held up the next article of clothing. It was a coat.

A bloody coat.

Sure, not as long as Jack’s, nor quite as broad. Certainly not the same colour, but the swish in it was exactly the same. The redhead was spinning around with the white thing on. Perfectly mimicking the captain when the man made a purposely dramatic turn.

“Well, it certainly explains a lot.”

“explains what?” Amy asked. He didn’t have the heart to answer her.

“I’m just going to take a shower back in my quarters, okay?” _and possibly wank to the idea of Jack wearing one of those damn things._

“Okidoki, see you in the morning.”  The girl was still admiring herself in the mirror when Ianto left.  


	7. We've been lied to.

* * *

_London, 2011._

It wasn’t winter anymore but spring still kept them waiting it seemed. Rory tugged his jacket closer and sped up his pace. He was glad that the pub was nearby. Though not late exactly, it wouldn’t hurt to go over his plans once more before starting the negotiations.

Sitting down at the table in the left corner, like they agreed, Rory ordered a tonic. It wouldn’t do to be drunk for this, no matter how well he knew Martin Baker. The man was just too dodgy to trust.

“Rory, my man! How ‘s it?” The guy wasn’t tall and certainly didn’t look dangerous, or particularly powerful. Rory knew better though. Martin was more than his decent dress shirt and cheap slacks, he was an information broker. Not the kind with a college degree though. No, his friend had made a reputation for himself in the illegal and hard-to-get-to kind of information. They’d met each other in this pub. Some scientist had been moaning over a fourth dimensional travelling theory and wanted to know if Martin had any geniuses up his sleeve that could help. Sixteen-year-old Rory had overheard that and since he was familiar with the subject, figured he might as well help.

After he solved all the mathematical problems of it on a napkin, the broker asked him if he wanted to earn some money. Rory had said yes, he could use the money for his design and now they had frequent exchanges of scientific papers for a nice contribution to the red-haired girl fund.

“I’m fine, thank you Martin. Can I get you anything?”

“Mate, I thought we were going to do things the other way ‘round for once. But I’ll have a pint, thanks.”

After settling in and guzzling down half his beer in one go, it was time for shop talk. 

“So, you said you’s wanting some information, then?” 

“Yes, actually, I need to get into the Fairford military base without being noticed, take some stuff and get out before they realize it’s gone.” He made a note not to sound insecure or lenient here; the broker would strike and try to change his plans into something more expensive if he did.

“That ain’t exactly information.” 

“I need the guard schedules, their identification method, entrance and exit strategies and a map of where they store their goods.” Rory had thought this over well, the other aspects of the plan he could handle himself, only ask for the basics here, because Martin charged per item procured.

“Now that I can do. With all that stuff that’s been going on, it shouldn’t be hard to find a military mole.”

“Sorry, what stuff?” An incredulous look was aimed at him.

“What stuff? What stuff!? ‘Ave you not been watchin’ the telly mate? Readin’ the web? Are you living under a rock!?”

“Oh, you mean the nobody dying stuff.” He’d heard about that, briefly. Then decided that it wouldn’t be very relevant to his research and returned to the basement. He’d had a lot of recalibrations at that time because of a fault in the system. Nothing much had changed since then. Mrs. Angelo went to church a bit more often and the news channels became less and less interesting but other than that, neither Leadworth nor London seemed any different.

“Yeah, I mean the nobody dying stuff! You have no idea how great this is! I mean, business is a booming. Everyone’s completely on edge. No-one trusts the government and the government trusts no-one, it’s paranoid heaven! And you know there is only one thing that quells paranoia: information. The whole of Britain is knocking on good ol’ Martin’s door.” If he wasn’t seated, Rory was pretty sure the man would be dancing by now. He looked like the picture of glee.

“Sorry, not to rain on your parade, but life hasn’t exactly changed out there.” Rory motioned to the streets, where grumpy Londoners were still looking for a place to shelter from the downpour. “I mean, the world hasn’t stopped turning. The only ones going crazy over it are those people on the news, who apparently can’t make a simple equation on overpopulation if their life depended on it.”

“No, you’re right of course, for the average citizen life does what it always does, it goes on. Get this though, the government is makin’ these so called ‘overflow camps’ where they’re gonna keep the dead people and burn’ em to a crisp, you know, to stop the overflow.  Now I can’t tell you how I know this, but I can tell you that them is not usin’ those places for the regular folks. For example, friend o’ mine got shot in the heart, as in lethal. By all means, he shouldn’t be alive anymore. So okay, overflow camps right?”

“Right.”

“Wrong! He goes to this doctor in one of them bigshot hospitals in London. D’you know what they tell ‘im? Nah mate, just put a cork in it or somethin’. Then, that’s it and he’s free to go, even though he should be put in them camps.”

“Should you be telling me this? You could probably sell this stuff for millions.”

“Yeah, I could, I will, already have done so actually. I can tell you because you do nothing but sit in a damn basement all day.” Rory wasn’t sure if he should be offended by that or honoured that he was getting this information, useless as it might be. “Anyway, lemme continue yeah? So, those camps. They’re not there for the average Joe. They’re made for enemies of the state. You stir up trouble for them bureaucrats, they’ll go an’ collect your sick family members or friends or something, so you won’t be a problem no more. Best part is; it’s been ‘appening all over the world. America, Russia, China. They’re all doin’ it!”

“How very…fascistic of them. Are you sure all countries are doing this? Is everyone really that paranoid?”

“Well, no, not everyone. I know that Germany has them ovens, but only uses them on braindead people, or people who volunteered and got a pass from a euthanizing doctor, ‘cause you know, they’re missing so many body parts they can’t live no more. Every one of them is sedated and gets to say g’bye before they go in. Israel too. Small wonder though, those two have swastika shaped wounds they ain’t willing to open up again.”

If that was the case, then maybe there was hope for the world yet. Either way, it didn’t really matter. People would riot once these things got out. As interesting as it was to philosophise on the moral grounds of humanity, Rory was here with another purpose.

“So, you can get me the info on that military base?” He was anxious to get started.

“Right, back to business then. Yeah, I can get you them plans. The question is, what do I get in return?”  Martin looked like a dog who was about to get his bone.

“A complete revised design of NASA’s latest spacecraft, with my additions it’ll be faster, much more efficient and capable of getting humanity to Mars. That is, if the government is willing to pay for space exploration instead of human exploitation.”

“Excellent! It’s legit though?” Like he’d ever give Martin work that wasn’t. There’d be a price on his head if the broker found out he’d sold him faulty information and Rory wasn’t keen on that. Baker was nice enough not to come knocking for information too often and respected the fact that his friend from Leadworth had other, more important things to do. That’s how they managed to keep a friendly business relationship. Martin had once told Rory that he was one of his most polite customers and that he had no intention to mess up a good thing.

“So, meet you back in Bristol in oh, three days then? I’ll contact my man on the inside and we’ll set up a meeting. You bring them papers, I’ll bring my Tommy friend and everyone will be havin’ a spectacular day.”

They arranged a specific date and place, it seemed that Martin was familiar with every seedy bar in the western world, and before he knew it, Rory was back on the cold street, one step closer to realizing his goal.

* * *

 

_Washington DC, 2011._

 

It was a sad day when the great Captain Jack Harkness had to lock himself in the bathroom to do research. Alas, there was no other option, the others had completely cluttered up the apartment and this happened to be the only place where noisy CIA agents, or Gwen for that matter, wouldn’t be looking over his shoulder every ten seconds. So here he was, on the edge of the tub, staring at his vortex manipulator.

He’d begun scanning the newspapers for a clue on the temporal distortion. The results hadn’t been exactly fruitful, but there’d been some leads. First and foremost, there was that released inmate called Oswald Danes. A paedophile.  He was once more going over his memories to determine the next step in his plans.

_“In order to catch the disturber, you’ll need to be diplomatic. Threatening them will only lead to more temporal unrest, because they can just undo whatever violence you do to them. More often than not, emphasizing with them will lead you to their source of power.”_

It was going to be tricky to relate to him, since Jack had always had a thing for lovers who were more mature than he was, John being the obvious exception to the rule. Nowadays it was impossible to find someone who was actually older than him, but it wasn’t the number so much as the behaviour that attracted him to those kind of people. Ianto was the perfect example, despite being barely out of his teens, _He always hated it when I said that_ had been wise beyond his years. So appealing to the man’s love for age-difference wouldn’t sound convincing, not to mention the fact that it was plain old creepy.

It was also a no-go to talk about sexual assault, because Jack wouldn’t dream of abusing something like that. Sex was supposed to be fun, for both parties.  Sure, he had urges but damn, couldn’t people just find someone else or you know, their right hand. Thinking about the fun aspect of it all, he realized that maybe he should’ve been nicer to Basil the barman last night. Oh well, water under the bridge, it wasn’t like the guy would actually remember any of it. Still, he promised himself not to be so callous again.

Back on track, there was one thing he could use to emphasize with the child-raping bastard. The thought alone made him feel sick but really, what other choice did he have? It was his duty to fix things, to keep the timeline in place. It had been some time since Stephen’s death now and he still couldn’t even remotely justify what happened. Every time he saw a kid, it felt a punch in the gut.

He was torn from his thoughts by a loud knock on the door.

“Jack, what the bloody hell are you doing in there?!” Gwen, once more on her crusade to save him from himself.  Rhys must not be answering the phone right now.

“It’s a bathroom, Gwen, what do you think I’m doing!”

“You’ve been in there for over half an hour!” Crap, she was suspicious now.

“I’m having a hand job, okay?”

A long pause, he almost thought she’d left him alone.

“You’re kidding me. You are not wanking in there!” _Okay Harkness, you’ve had the last 170 years to practice your sex noises, better put them to good use now._

“uuuhgnn, you betcha I am, baby!”

“Jack…”  

“Ohhh, God! Yes!”

“Jack Harkness, that is disgusting!”

He could actually hear her stomping down the hallway this time. The captain snickered over his clever deception for a moment and then turned back to work.

It was decided; he would dredge up and abuse the fact that he murdered his grandson to get in the good graces of a paedophile.

Sometimes Jack really hated this job.

The plan was to trust his improvising skills to provide him the lines when coming face to face with Danes. This wasn’t something he wanted to prepare, or think about any more than necessary. Running his hand through his hair, Jack wished once more that Ianto was here. Preferably the one from his non-existing memories, but any other would do. They’d always had a way of calming each other down after work: Ianto with soft words and small gestures, Jack with easy-going jokes and playful flirtations. 

His breath hitched. It was time to focus on something else; he couldn’t keep doing this to himself.

Danes was in his range right now, he could reach the man if he gave it a shot. He had to act soon. God knows where they’d be tomorrow. Even if the rest of CIA were inexperienced monkeys like the ones they had here, Jack was sure that at some point one of them would notice that there were an awful lot of phone calls to one Rhys Williams coming from this place. The CIA would figure their hiding place and then they’d be forced to go on the run again.

* * *

 

_Bristol, 2011._

 

Nursing yet another tonic, Rory checked his watch. Thirty minutes late. He was getting nervous, this would have to work, he could probably get in, but getting out with a truckload of stolen items? No, that wouldn’t be plausible.

A loud noise at the door alerted him that Martin had stormed in.

“Williams!? Rory? Ah, there ‘e is. D’you got the plans?” Rory nodded “Brilliant, come on then, off we go!” Before he could fully comprehend what was going on, he was shoved in the front seat of a jeep and heard Martin jump in the back.

“Alright girly, step on it!” The Hispanic woman next to him put her foot on the gas and with that, they were off.

“Martin, did you just kidnap me?”

“Y’know, I just love that about him, he’s never surprised. No matter what anyone does to him, Williams just rolls with it.” He focussed his attention back on Rory. “No mate, I did not kidnap you. If you want out, just say the word. Thing is, my friend Maria here informed me that she’s on a very tight schedule, and if you want to get into Fairford it’d have to be tonight.”

It was only then that he noticed her army slacks. Well, so much for careful planning then.

“Rory Williams, nice to meet you.”

“Maria Lopez, a pleasure. So, heard you need some government stuff?”

“Yes, actually. How is this going to work?”

“You’re going to pose as a military engineer from another base, there’s clothing and identification in the back. An inspector is coming ‘round tomorrow, so the whole of Fairford is anxious to be in top condition. If I tell them that you’re there to do some final check-ups, they’ll be happy to let you in. Then, when you’re done, we tell them that the parts you took were defective and that they need to go back to the factory, we sign the stuff off and ride into the sunset. Martin here will forge the records so they’ll think everything arrived there safely.”

“That…sounds great. Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you doing this?” The plan seemed viable, he was just curious as to where his broker had found this one.

“I have two kids at home, boys aged 12 and 8. Back in ‘09 they began talking to the sky. My colleagues at Thames house, they start telling me these incredible things: aliens, here to take ten percent of our children away. Then out of the blue, they’re dead and my government, whom I’ve served for almost all my life, tells me to collect the little ones who aren’t going to expensive schools. We’re not a rich family, so guess whose names were on their list.”

“Your kids. They would’ve asked you to give up your own kids.”

“Exactly! It’s a good thing that the order was withdrawn not 24 hours later, because it would’ve been a bloodbath, half of the soldiers were fighting on the side of the civilians. We never figured out what happened, the assholes that gave the order stayed in control. If someone in that room had come forward with evidence, we could’ve gotten them. I didn’t quit my job. I figured I’d be better off keeping an eye on the suspicious stuff that was going on. Now, everyone just stops dying and a lot of us are being sent to factories in the middle of nowhere. Martin’s told me what was happening. Believe me, at this point I’ll do anything to hurt those rats.”

“Right, you do know that I’m not actually building something that will help you stage a coup d’état?”

“I know and that’s cool mate, it just doesn’t hurt to make friends at this point. There’s a storm brewing and sooner or later, riots will break out. The government will be overthrown. Then, it’d be best to have some smart and powerful allies.”

“Christ, I was kidding about that coup, but you’re really going to do this, aren’t you?” He was a little shocked, this was Britain, not Brazil. For the first time in his life he wondered if maybe, he had been spending too much time cooped up in his basement.

 “From what I’ve heard, plenty of people are ready to go to the streets. They’re just stuck waiting for someone to make the first move. I intend to do that, once I’ve gathered enough slander to make this a success. We’ve already got Martin on our side, so that’s gotta count for something.” She smiled and looked to the back, where the information broker was pulling a bored face. Rory was having hard time believing that the very example of self-servitude would be motivated to help a group of broke rebels.

“What really? You?” He stared at Martin.

“Yeah, yeah, Viva La Revolution and all that.”

“But wouldn’t it be more profitable to work for the government? After all, they’ve got the money.”

“Lemme tell you something, Rory m’boy. I like to be on the winning side of things and when the Government is brawling it out with its own people, no matter how long the fight lasts, in the end it’s always the regular folk that win. Name one regime that wasn’t overthrown in the end. In my opinion, them bureaucrats should be begging for mercy at the feet of their voters, because if they don’t, it’ll get very ugly.”

That gave them all something to mull over for the next few minutes. Once they reached an abandoned forest road, Maria stopped the car and told Martin to get out and Rory to go put on his disguise. When everything was set to start the show, it was time to say goodbye to the one who wouldn’t be going along.

“Well Baker, this was nice. Though next time, I’d appreciate it if you would just get me information, instead of an arranged kidnap.” His neck was still recovering from the sudden movements.

“Come on, kid, be a bit flexible, you’re gonna get whatcha want anyway. So who’s complainin’? Until next time, wonderboy!” Martin replied. Rory just waved a hand over his shoulder and got back in the car.

Maria and he didn’t have a lot to talk about, so the next time anyone opened their mouths was at the entrance of the base.

“Evening Lopez! Is this the guy you were talking about last night?”

“Boone.” She greeted. “This is him alright. Show him your ID.” Rory dutifully pulled out the badge that said Roger West and for a long moment the guard studied it. Then, finally, salvation.

  
“Looks okay, good luck with the final check up.” Boone did a lazy salute and opened the gate.

“Let’s just hope the inspector will say the same.” With that, they drove through the gates and Rory let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Maria too seemed more relaxed now that they were officially in.

She drove them to the nearest depot and began pointing out where the technology was stored. All in all, it took them less than half an hour to get it all in the back of the truck. Sure, Rory had to disassemble parts of a tank to do it, but he’d read plenty blueprints. It was easy, really.

Once he was carrying the last of the avionics out the door, towards the truck. It started to make a beeping sound.

A rather ominous beeping sound.

Next thing he knew, Maria was jogging down the path, cursing as she came closer.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! That thing has an internal alarm!”

“Yeah, thanks. I noticed.” He added lamely.

“We need to get out of here now! I can’t explain to the guards why we weren’t informed that this thing is secured. There’ll be questioning, that badge might trick Boone but it won’t work on the higher ups.” Time for improvising. He could do this, he’d had to jump through so many hoops to get the parts for his machine. _What’s one more in a long line?_

“I can shut this down and get out on my own. You go on ahead and get the rest of the stuff out of the base. Before everyone notices this.”

“No, I can’t just leave you here!” He wasn’t sure if she was really worried about him or just afraid that he’d name her as the mole. Either way, she had the best chance of getting the truck out.

“Calm down, I’ll be fine. I’ve done this sort of running thing more times than I can remember. Best you get the supplies out, or I’ll be complaining to Martin’s customer service.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “I’ll see you at nine in that pub tomorrow morning.”

She looked over her shoulder, nodded quickly and strode calmly to the vehicle. Rory stared at her, the beeping device still in his hands, all the while thinking that he had absolutely no idea how he was going to fulfil that last promise.

* * *

_Somewhere between D.C. and L.A., 2011._

The landscape was flying by as Jack looked out of the window. He plugged in some kind of mp3-player and tried to drown out the background noises.  Angry with himself for numerous reasons, he had decided to not even bother complaining to the group for betraying their position.

The whole thing had been a fucking failure. What was he thinking? That he would just waltz in there and play the cold-hearted killer with a paedophile? He wasn’t like that. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he’d never been like that. Every heinous act Jack had ever performed had been born from some kind of righteous anger or severe necessity and had always ended with a monstrous guilt trip. The whole conversation had de-evolved into some vague exchange about nothing at all, after which he’d been kicked out of the compound. Only to be confronted by some lunatic who was clearly on a double dose of hero-worship.

Luckily, it hadn’t been a complete loss. It was unlikely that Danes was the key to the temporal shifts, the man had a death wish. Not because he felt guilty or something, but because the world had figured out what he was and couldn’t deal with that properly. That pharmaceutical company had more potential. It couldn’t be the whole company of course, logically speaking, there were plenty of honest people working there. There were scientists trying to cure diseases and ease human suffering, managers just making a living for their families and developers who pushed to make unprofitable drugs for rare diseases. No, it had to be one specific person, someone who wanted to make a shitload of money and who, for some unfathomable reason, made the world immortal to do so.

“Where’d you get that shiner?” Gwen was looking at him, following her gaze; he noticed the big purple bruise that Danes’ guards had left on his arm.

“Ran into a bit of trouble last night. They didn’t take too kindly to me sneaking around their property. I offered them a threesome to make up for it and things got a bit rough after that.” Jack hoped that he sounded at least a bit playful.

“Were you drunk again? I swear to God Jack, you need to be more careful. You’re mortal now! If anything happens to you, we’ll never figure this out.”

“I wasn’t drunk.” He left it at that, not really interested in starting up that discussion. In the past perhaps, he would’ve told her to mind her own damn business or defend himself properly. Nowadays, he was growing tired of it, the endless bitching over things that barely mattered and then getting reprimanded for it, no matter what his reasons had been.

He could never win with Gwen Cooper. With other people, he’d always hold his own using logic, empathy or straight up bullying. Yeah, of course there’d been moments when the others were angry with him, sometimes justified, sometimes not. Most of the time though, he could get them to understand him on some basic level, explain to them why he’d done what he’d done. Somehow, when it came to Gwen, he’d freeze up. All his brain functions would grind to a halt until, in the end, she’d get her way. 

It wasn’t a pleasant ‘I’m-so-in-love-I-lose-all-coherent-thoughts’ feeling either. He’d thought that was it at first, had let himself believe that that was it for almost a year but after he came back and she announced her wedding, he’d been shocked to find relief, not sadness or anger.

He had felt free. If those fucked up feelings he’d had for Gwen weren’t love then maybe the fucked up ones he’d been feeling for Ianto were. Jack fondly remembered a completely awkward scene in an office building. He was, for now, ignoring the fact that Ianto had already died back then. It was a gamble, but if he could fix the timelines, there’d be a fifty percent chance that his new memories would become reality. Who knows, maybe he could get Ianto back completely, if only for a while.

Despite his weird feelings, he liked Gwen well enough, most of the time. It did make him wonder though, what was it about her that made him so meek? Looking at her now, she was still ranting at him like the world was ending, he couldn’t imagine that Captain Jack Harkness wouldn’t be able to beat her in a verbal sparring. The evidence however, was contradictory. Time and time again, Mrs. Cooper got away.

Rex had just made the mistake of changing the radio station, which prompted Gwen to turn her attentions away from Jack and towards the CIA-ass. He turned the volume of his mp3-player up and prayed to the Gods that Los Angeles wasn’t as far away as it seemed.


	8. We are champions by design.

* * *

_Time Agency,_ _\----._

_You’re back there again, on the examination table. Your parents are talking to the doctor on the other side of the room. Possibly contemplating another series of tests. There is no way that will happen, because you can still feel the needles in your brain from last time. Why is this so important? They tell you you’re not living your life to the fullest, that you’re missing out on things_ _. I_ _t doesn’t feel that way though. Sure, you don’t have many friends, but most people your age are only concerned with stupid frivolities and you have a universe full of miraculous things waiting for you, so you’re never truly alone. Mother is crying, again. She doesn’t seem to stop these days. You’re not sure it’s because she feels sad for you or ashamed because she failed as a parent. Father is still hopeful, he believes that technology is so advanced nowadays that they’ll fix this, they’ll fix his child._

_You put on your coat and are walking home, watching a couple on the corner stick their tongues down their throats, before you focus on what appears to be a hybrid of two different flowers, stubbornly growing between the street and the sidewalk. It’s invigorating to see that even something like that can survive at the most unlikely places. Your mother calls out again, sixteen-year-olds shouldn’t waste their time staring at the ground, they should be out living._

_It’s another dreary city evening, the lights are on everywhere and people are buzzing past the shops. Another fight at dinner, you’ve told them that you don’t want this anymore, that you’re happy with the way things are and that they can choke on it if they don’t like it. Then you walked out on them, let them fume for a bit, it’s not your concern. You nearly run smack bang into the man when he hands you a flyer. Before you’ve even finished reading it, the plan is formulating in your mind._

_It’s night now, you’ve packed your bags and the note for your parents is on your desk, they’ll read it when they wake up tomorrow. You know that deep down, they do love you. It’s just that you can’t keep doing this any longer. You climb out the window, like you’ve been practicing these past few days. Slipping past the alarm is the hardest part of your enterprise and before you know it, you’ve finished the twenty minute walk to the shuttle dock. You give them your name, they okay it. Strapping into the seat, you’re glad that the Time Agency’s minimum age is sixteen. As the shuttle sets off, never to be seen again, you’re happy for the first time in a long while, finally things are looking up again._

Angelica nearly fell out of her bed. The dream, memory really, had been so sharp, so vivid it saddened her a bit. She had never doubted the decision, still didn’t, but remembering it again made it all too clear how much this place, and the people who lived here, had meant to her.

Last night sleep hadn’t come easily. Part of her was still mourning her fallen friends, while the rest was screaming at her to go on, to fix this. As a Time Agent, she was conditioned for this sort of independence. She got out of bed. Might as well use what she learned to clear up the building. Heading towards the control room, she began planning. From what she had seen the rogues hadn't been able to reap all of the compounds resources, so it was likely they'd be back for more.            
   
Time to set up an intruder alert.          
   
As far as manpower went, Ianto would probably be amiable to help her keep them safe and was far more likely to be better equipped in dealing with the unpredictability of it all. Angelica was actually a bit ashamed she hadn't been able to respond to yesterday’s discoveries immediately.          
   
Amy was a strange creature all by herself and very liable to become a loose cannon, if given the chance. On the other hand, her knowledge paired with her naivety could throw their enemies off guard. Ordering her around would be fruitless, but she seemed to respond well to Ianto's gentle steering, who in turn allowed himself to be guided by logic and scientific facts.           
           
Now that the computer systems were on, she was finally able to give her people at least a half decent resting place. She set the mass teleporter to one of the larger cryonic warehouses and inventoried the locations of all the bodies. Careful not to include living organisms, she made sure they ended up in the storage space. From there on out, the machines would put each corpse in an individual drawer. That was all she could handle at the moment, feeling the lack of sleep and the dragging loss weighing on her shoulders again.  
   
Moving on, she eventually ended up in a south-east corner of the Agency and began contemplating the temporal disturbance.     
   
What could be powerful enough to actually erase time? Allegedly Time Lords could, but it went against their very nature. Doing something like that would cause them a horrible amount of pain. Besides, they were extinct. The Korven were a suspect as well, but if one of them had managed this, they would´ve no doubt waltzed through the doors showing off their newfound power. She went through a list of several time-active species but came to the conclusion that none of them would be so reckless as to unbalance the universe this much.

It was mindboggling.

* * *

 

The late morning found Ianto Jones wandering about in the halls. It was actually quite peaceful, this whole place. The windows were showing a meteor storm outside, he wasn´t sure how that was possible, but it added to the atmosphere nonetheless. The corpses had apparently been moved while he was sleeping and he was currently looking for Angelica to explain that.

He found her standing in front of a massive three story window, admiring the same thing as he had just now.

“That’s a rather lovely view, though I’m wondering, how it’s possible for there to be meteorites here?”

She kept staring ahead while she explained “They’re not really falling stars because, as you implied, we don’t have those. What you’re looking at is yet another proof that time has gone completely mad. It’s the barrier of this place and the moving time stream clashing together at certain points, as if the entire Agency should be erased from time but can’t because it isn’t actually in time.”

“Given your reaction yesterday, I take it things are quite grave then?”

“There’s an understatement. Normally when a timeline changes, it continues to exist, somewhere, which is why the history books we have here remain the same even under temporal duress. Now though, they seem confused, the letters continually change, as if they can’t tether themselves to their own line anymore. That means that someone is not only changing time, they’re erasing it.”

“Does this screw up explain why both me and Amy are here?” They were both staring out the window at this point.

“I suspect so, but I have no idea as to the whys and hows.”

He wanted to be gentle about this, it couldn’t have been easy for her but at the same time, if they were ever going to get out of here, he needed to know what was going on and how everything here worked.

“I noticed that the bodies in the hallways have been removed?”

“Oh, yes, I teleported them to the cryo-chambers. It seemed more…more respectful this way. The only thing left now is to tag them properly, figure out who’s who.” Her breath was hitching and she looked like she was scared of even starting that process.

“Later, we can do that later. I can even help you with it. Things like that used to be part of my job.”

“Thanks.”

The akward silence seemed to stretch on forever after that and Ianto, still a bit at loss, decided to make a valiant attempt at small talk.

“So, are you from the 51st century?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, no, definitely not. I’m just surprised you haven’t tried to jump me or Amy if that’s the case.” She seemed mildly amused by his statement.

“Ah, I see you’ve met my contemporaries, then.” _You could say that again._ “Don’t worry though, that’s not likely to happen.” He had half a mind to question her about that, but there were more important things to ask.

“Yes, they were Time Agents too, actually, and I was wondering if...if perhaps you’d know more about them?”

“Depends, what are their names?”  This was going to be problematic.

“Jack Harkness and John Hart.”

“I hate to break it to you, but those names are so obviously 20th century. No-one in service here would’ve been born with them. They’ve lied to you.” It was the akward truth, Ianto hardly knew anything about Jack and even less about John. Perhaps it was better this way, Jack would’ve told him, if he had wanted him to know.

“I figured as much.”

“Don’t look at me like that, not everything is lost. Do you have any additional information on them? Details? Something we can use to filter out results in a search?”

“Uh, one of them was from the Boeshane Peninsula, but that’s pretty much where my knowledge ends.” Jack had mentioned his home once, in a vulnerable mood. He hadn’t even told him what or where this Peninsula was and Ianto hadn’t asked either. The subject had soon devolved into a long talk about his family. The Welshman hadn’t even given it a second thought, back then the people Jack spoke of were more important than the details of the story.

“Boeshane?! Really? Well, that certainly narrows it down.”

“It does?” Despite all his good intentions of not putting his nose where it didn’t belong, his heart skipped a beat at that statement.

“Yeah, in the history of the Time Agency, there has only ever been one recruit from that Peninsula. Mostly because it was a backwater colony, where the locals could hardly get basic schooling, let alone the high level education that was demanded here, it took one hell of a smart kid to go from Boeshane to the Agency. Hey, I bet if you relayed that location to a computer though, you’ll find your guy. Jeez, talk about a blast from the past.”

“How so?”

“We were in the same classes for a while, I don’t remember his name exactly, because most people just called him Boeshane or Boe or something like that. Dark hair, blue eyes, cocky son of a bitch? Am I getting that right?”

_Jesus Christ, this woman is talking about the elusive Jack Harkness like he’s some old schoolmate._

“Yep, that’s him alright.”

“He was a good kid, until he got in with the wrong crowd. Bit of a shame. Did he ever get back on track?”

“Oh, yes, definitely. He uh, was working for Torchwood last time I saw him.” _Working, living, dying, all for bloody Torchwood._

“Hmm, well, good for him. I’ll show you how to access the database; you can look up his background for a bit.”

He couldn’t deal with that yet, not now, not this instant. It would take time, he’d have to think it over, if it was even right to go through Jack’s past when the man had always kept it so close to his chest. Jack rarely gave it away and certainly didn’t like it when people started digging for it. His mind was frantically looking for a distraction, something that would delay the immediate curiosity until he had figured it all out.                 
  
“So, d’you have any ideas on what we could do to get back, or, at least get the timelines back in place?”

“Some. Most of them are a bit basic, though probably worth trying.”

“Good. That’s good. Maybe we can look them over and brainstorm on it? With Amy of course, she knows some remarkable bits here and there, who knows what we’ll come up with.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about? I thought she was from your era?”

“She’s been travelling with a Time Lord for a while now. You pick up one or two things on temporal physics when you do that apparently.”

“Time Lords? Aren’t those extinct?”

“They are, minus one. He still travels around the universe, doing God knows what; you’d have to ask our dear Mrs Pond for the details.”

“I see. Should I go find her so we can get started?”

“Sure, if you want to. Meet you in the cafeteria in thirty minutes then? I’ll see if I can get the coffee machine whipped into shape.”

 “Sounds good.” With that, she walked off, leaving him to contemplate the conversation.

Apparently Angelica had known Jack as a colleague, or classmate. It still hadn’t sunk in yet, that they were here, the place where the captain had learned most of his tricks and gained his seemingly infinite knowledge on the universe. Supposedly, they were to solve a problem that was as bigger than what the Time Agency usually dealt with.

_This is Doctor stuff. Not Torchwood stuff._

Even if it had been one of those huge Torchwood assignments, then, at least, he would’ve had experienced people to work with. As it was, he was trapped with a girl who was too young to deal with this crap and an Agent who probably had more PTSD up her sleeve than even he had.

How the hell was he supposed to do this. Him, Ianto Jones, after all, he was just-

_“Don't compare yourself to me. You're just a tea boy.”_

_“I'm much more than that.”_

His own words. He tried to remember how he had felt that day, but all that resurfaced was his old anger at Owen for dismissing Lisa so easily and the familiar urge to follow Jack’s order. But Jack wasn’t here right now. _And didn’t that just hurt like hell._

Jack wasn’t here to give him orders and to tell him what to do. He wasn’t here to play the swashbuckling hero this situation required.

He knew of course that the leader of Torchwood and the man himself were two completely different personas. Half of the time, Jack hadn’t a clue whether or not his plans were going to work. They’d talked about it once, after that whole mess with Nikky Bevan.

_“I shouldn’t have given her that GPS. I’m sorry.”_

_“Pfff, It’s Gwen, knowing her she would’ve either wrestled it out of me eventually, or worse, destroy the mainframe while trying to dig it up herself.”_

_“Doesn’t change the fact that Mrs. Bevan is scarred for life.”_

_“Look, you took a chance, it didn’t work out. That’s just the way things go. We can’t always get it right. Sometimes all we can do is try.”_

_“Try, yes, and maybe clean up the mess afterwards?”_

_“Ahaa, there’s my Ianto! Why don’t we retcon Mrs. Bevan tomorrow and put some money in a couple of those support-groups they’ve got around here. For now though, Bed. You still have to make up for not following orders!”_

_“Tsssk, I see that separating work from play continues to be a challenge for you, sir.”_

_“Work, Jones! I’ll show you some work!”_

The rest of the memory dissolved in feelings of exquisite pleasure and general happiness. The point was, he had to drag himself back to the now once more, that all Jack did was try. Try to be more than a just a man.

Well, If Jack could do that, then so could Ianto.        

* * *

 

While their Welshman was still puttering around with the coffee machine in the back, Amy had been found by Angelica and was now sitting cross legged on one of the benches in the cafeteria. Across from her, the Time Agent was tapping on something that vaguely resembled an Ipad. She had seen this stranger from the future go from rage, to disbelief, to mourning and then to resilience in less than 24 hours but still didn’t actually know anything about her. Feeling that her curiosity had served her well in befriending Ianto, Amy was confident enough to try it again. 

“So, where are you from?”

“Here.” A dry, distracted answer that was, if not an outright lie, then at least only partially true.

“Really? I haven’t seen much child friendly stuff around here. Can’t imagine people raising kids here.”

“I didn’t grew up here. I just…lived here for quite a long time.”

“Well, where were you born then?” Angelica was going to make this difficult for her.

“Big city, 51st century, quite a long way from Earth.” Still, the Ipad-thingy held more of her interest.

“Did you like it there?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t really fit the mould, so to speak.” And wasn’t that just the slogan of Amy’s life. If Angelica was going to end up anywhere near the freak-level that she and Ianto and shared, then there might still be a chance for that army of weirdoes she’d been planning since third grade.

“Well, that’s a bit of a general statement. I mean, people don’t fit in for lots of reasons, maybe you could elaborate a bit…if you want to, that is, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t like sex.” She did not see that one coming.

“What? Seriously? Have you tried it with ice-cream? Because I have found that sprinkles do wonders for my stamina.” Rory had flinched so badly the first time she’d made a fruit sundae on his stomach.

Thank God, Angelica’s eyes had drifted away from the computer thing and was chuckling at her now.  

“It’s more than that. I’m just not interested in the emh, entire physical experience of it all.”

“So…No kissing then?”

“It’s unhygienic. Do you know how many diseases you can spread that way? Besides, the few times that I did try, it was pretty boring, just moving your tongue around a bit.”

“I’ll take that as a no. What about cuddling?”

“That’s different, I won’t shy away from simple human contact. It’s not that I don’t like people, I can make friends just fine. I’m not disabled, I’m happy with my life the way it is…well, I was until this whole mess started.”  It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech, like the kind Amy used to give people when they asked her if she was crazy.

_No, I’m not crazy, I’m just seeing a psychiatrist because my aunt thinks I’m not dealing without my parents, I’ve had it tested . Yes, I’ve had all my shots so that bite wound probably won’t give you rabies._

There were hundreds of variations for it, each and every one coming down to the same thing: 

_I like me, deal with it._

And there was only one correct answer to it. A good heartfelt:

“Okay.”

Angelica’s expression was comically shocked for a moment, before slipping into a serene smile. Ianto, with his impeccable timing, took that moment to come waltzing in with the coffee 

“Here you go.” The liquid had been poured in rather odd looking cups. The Welshman was making a clear difference between who got which cup and to Amy’s surprise, the coffee was made exactly the way she liked it.

The Time Agent looked mildly amused by what she’d been given, but did nothing more than thank the man before returning to her typing. After settling down with his own he directed himself to them.

“So, what were we talking about?”

“Ice-cream.” Angelica answered while giving Amy a big grin. Ianto arched his eyebrow, but didn’t ask what that meant.

“Now,-” That was the Welshman again, starting up shop-talk “-We need to have some form of a plan around here, if not for the grand scheme of things then for the day-to-day business. Angelica, could you show us what we’ve got so far?”

And that apparently, was the beginning of a very boring afternoon trying to figure out who would do what.

 


	9. Everything to prove

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

Ianto took a moment to go through the list again. It had been a week of plotting and scheduling, arguing, compromising and learning as much as they could in order to live properly in this place. By now, there was a slightly clearer image of what needed to be done.

With a little struggle he managed to find the edit button on his vortex manipulator. Like the two women, it had become an integral part of life these past couple of days. Him and Amy had been following what was now dubbed VM-class 101. Every day, an hour before dinner, they’d sit down together and messed around with the little things, while Angelica explained some of features they held. It was such versatile technology that he’d began to wonder why Jack hadn’t used it more often.

There, the last updates on their list were made and he was now ready to send it to his…well, he supposed he’d better start calling them teammates or colleagues now. His own perfectionist streak got the better of them and he went through it one more time in his head.

-          ­ _Set up a safety protocol in case the intruders return._

-          _Investigate at what point the timeline began to diverge._

-          _Identify the method with which the perpetrator changed time._

-          _Identify the perpetrator by triangulating possible advantages brought on by the anomaly._

-          _Find out the most effective means of incapacitating said perpetrator._

-          _Master techniques fit for incapacitation._

-          _Undo or fix the damage to the timeline._

He sighed, it was all still too vague, each and every point on the list could mean a wide range of activities and even a little change if one of them could turn the next item into something completely new.

For now though, they were already starting up the first step of their plan, he wasn’t supposed to meet the other two for another twenty minutes, but experience dictated that it never hurt to be early.

Angelica had had the same idea apparently, because she was waiting for him there.

“’Morning, I wasn’t aware that we were meeting earlier.”

“We weren’t. I just exploited your habit of being early. I told Amy yesterday that we’d all meet each other here ten minutes ago.”

Lo and behold, a very out of breath Mrs. Pond came running down the hallway exactly at that moment. She was still trying to tie her shoelaces and eating a sandwich when she came to a stop in front of them.

“Hey Angie, Ianto. Sorry for being late, well, you know how it is…I overslept, got lost, my dog ate my homework, alien abduction…just pick one. ” A guilty smile.

Her timing had bothered Ianto somewhat during the first two days of their new agreement. Truth was, Amy was just too chaotic to be rushed. When he’d asked her to be on time that third day, she started choosing unprepared over late and promptly began forgetting the most obvious things: her vortex manipulator, her coat, her left sock. He had to hand it to the redhead though, whatever she forgot, Amy always managed to improvise without it throughout the day, never once complaining about not having the object.

Angelica, it seemed, was neither interested in his irritation over having to wait nor her tendency of being late. He’d asked their Time Agent to show them the ropes of 51st century technology. She agreed, under the circumstances that she could decide the pacing and the class schedule.

 “Right, now that we’re all here…” She placed her hand on the wall, the little lit up lines, which he by now recognized as scanners, popped up and an invisible door slid open in front of them.

* * *

The looks on their faces were priceless.

To be honest, she had never been very interested in the whole teaching schtick. Trying to convince arrogant little snots how the world worked wasn’t exactly an appealing job, but both Amy and Ianto were breaking the cliché as the days went by. They were friendly, curious and mostly polite, so surprising them with things like this was something to enjoy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the armoury!”

The rows and rows of weapons were bound to impress anyone entering it, but for a Torchwood agent in particular it would be heaven all around. Ianto did not disappoint, his eyes were quickly darting back and forth to the blasters for anything recognizable.

“Are these all weapons? How come you knew where the scanner was exactly? Do you have a small army hidden around here somewhere?” Amy was firing a litany of questions while disappearing and reappearing from between the shelves.

“Yes. My vortex manipulator. No, not yet. You’re both free to look around and investigate this place from top to bottom, just…try not to touch anything, I would really hate for the entire Agency to blow up because one of you thought ‘it looked like a cool gizmo’. If you find something you think you can handle, we’ll try it out on the shooting range later.”

A distant feminine shout of “Okay!” was the last evidence that Amy was even in the room, while Mr. Jones just raised an eyebrow, as if to say: _Woman, do you even know where I used_ _to_ _work?_

True to form, Torchwood began scanning the items on the shelves meticulously. Analyzing every corner without ever coming close to touching them. It was quite impressive, really. Ianto never mentioned exactly what his job was back on Earth, but if she’d had to guess it would be either weapon specialist or a second-in-command. Uncomfortable with leading, but well aware of the tasks that came with it and always ready to add the necessary detailing to them.

 “Did you find the information on that friend of yours?”

“Emh, no. Not yet, anway. I’ve been very busy with getting this show on the road.”

He was lying, it would take less than ten seconds to boot up the system and look it up.  Despite the training schedules they’d been making, there was still plenty of time to do it. Whatever was keeping him back had nothing to do with their job. Speaking of which:

“I finished a list of all species capable of doing this, the most likely candidate is still a Time Lord. You said that Amy’s alien wasn’t quite as reliable as she made him out to be, do you think he’s a suspect?”

Ianto had slipped away, but his voice indicated that he was still nearby, for now.

“No, it doesn’t seem like a thing he would do, not intentional anyway. It’s possible that he wrecked the universe without meaning to, but that’s a big slip up, even for him.”

He was behind her now, appearing from the left. A quick look to his face told her that Ianto was building up towards making a suggestion. Whenever he wanted to do that, he’d start off with an insecure look. Ah, there was step two, hands on the hips. Step three: turn head sideways, turn back, and…

“Did…did you find anything crucial? Because otherwise it might be best if you could find us some simple weapons to start with on the practice range, just in case neither of us recognizes anything in here. ”

The relief was palatable in Ianto once she’d agreed with him. All Time Agents were encouraged to research Torchwood during their training, so Angelica was well aware of the often stressful and aggressive environments its employees had to deal with. Perhaps the operative just wasn’t used people simply accepting what he said? Boeshane had been a hothead, she remembered that much.

Strange though, so far, about ninety percent of what Ianto suggested was very reasonable (she happily excluded the ‘I’m dead’ bit). Hell, his plans usually came with a complete risk analysis and budget proposition if he thought he could get away with it.  Had the Agency been half as efficient as this man was, it would’ve survived the onslaught.

_There wouldn’t have been an onslaught in the first place, Ianto is not the kind of guy who hires shady assassins._

If - no, when she would start rebuilding this place, she’d use his systems as an example. Those rogues wouldn’t stand a chance.  She wandered past the shelves, picking out a weapon here and there, her step becoming lighter and lighter as she contemplated the future.

* * *

It was all very impressive, this weaponry. The Doctor however, would probably want to blow up the entire thing. She knew aliens were creative when it came all sorts of machineries; guns were not an exception apparently. She passed a particularly large cannonlike structure before noticing the little holoscreens next to it.

_5010 to 5722_

_MITRE Minigun_

_Usability: **_

_Impact: *****_

_Production: *_

_Applicable species: see MITRE._

She wondered what the weapons with a one-star usability looked like, If this thing had earned the double. How much weirder could they be? A mere curiosity became a game, and before too long it had become Amy’s goal to seek out the least handy weapon in the inventory.

_S’not like I’m going to find anything in here that I recognize anyway._

Ten minutes of searching later, she entered biochemical corner of the armoury. Most of the things harboured here looked like lava lamps with clear liquids floating in it. The tags indicated that these were viruses, ready to be used at a whim. _Bubonic plague, Chen-7, Anthrax, Rust plague._ Whereas the rest of the weapons just made her giggle at their weird shapes, these little insignificant tubes had a dark threatening feel on them.                                                                                                    

How many times had the Agency used these to eliminate enemies? One strike of any of the diseases here and an entire planet could die a slow and painful death. Was this why the Doctor didn’t want anything to do with external organisations? Rory had told her what happened when she’d been trapped underground. How Ambrose had ended Alaya’s life.

Was that the nature of life, then? To kill or be killed, to fear the unknown, to try and suppress it at every corner. Here she was, 3000 years in the future and apparently people were still judging Angelica for being different, they were still murdering each other to make money, still creating weapons to make the world burn.

“D’you reckon it’s in here somewhere?”

She screamed and nearly landed flat on her ass. God, that man was a bloody ninja. Amy was sure he got some sort of kick out of catching her off guard.

“Pfff, Don’t do that again, will you!-” A slap on his shoulder and a deep breath “-what do you think is in here, then?”

“The virus that killed me.”

“Oh right, ‘cause you’re ‘dead’ and all that.”

“Don’t mock me, Pond.” Amy recognized a note of playfulness underneath.

_Seems like he’s accepting the fact that he might still be alive, after all._

“Right, sorry, that virus, How did you catch it ?”

“I was in Thames house, during that week the children started pointing at the sky.”

Kids and pointing? What?

“That doesn’t exactly ring a bell. Should it?” For the first time since arriving here, Ianto looked at her like she was crazy, it wasn’t pleasant.

“You mean, you don’t remember the moment when all kids worldwide began saying ‘we are coming’ in unison?”

Amy shook her head.

“July 2009, 300 or so deaths in Thames house because of a virus outbreak? Gas leak? Terrorist attack? They couldn’t have covered that up, not with so many victims.”

“I…I…Really don’t.”

“And you didn’t happen to be in a coma somewhere around that time either?” His eyebrow went up.

“’Course not, stupid. I would’ve remembered that.” It was good to see that the situation could still be alleviated with sarcasm.

 “What about the terrorist attack on Canary Wharf in ‘07?”

“…No, The only terrorist bombing I remember is the one on the London tube in 2005 and the Atraxi attack in 2008.”

“Atraxi attack? Where?!”

“Leadworth. It’s near Gloucester, but I’m pretty sure that went global!”

“That’s within the hub’s range; Torchwood would’ve picked up on it, even if it wasn’t global.”

He had different memories than she did, something wasn’t adding up. If he was an alien hunter, living on earth, then where the hell was he during that whole prisoner zero mess? Likewise, why didn’t she remember little kids talking to the sky?

They had talked about stuff like this, she and the Doctor. About her remembering things differently. Amy had a strong memory, the only advantage of living next to a crack in time and space for a long time. Yet, there were still things she didn’t remember. One thing in particular came to mind. 

“Planets in the sky! Do you remember planets in the sky!?”

“The Dalek invasion…sure, of course I do.”

“That’s it! I don’t! The Doctor told me about it and thought it was strange that I didn’t remember but that was because of the cracks! They erased things from time, like…like the Daleks and possibly your terrorist attacks!”   
  
“What caused these… umh, ‘cracks’?”                           
  
“Well…the explosion of the TARDIS. If, if those things happened for you, then you must be from a time where she didn’t explode. Same with Atraxi. Those children, they cried out worldwide. Was the Doctor there?”

“No. No, he really wasn’t.” The dark look on Ianto’s face told her that the Time Lord definitely should’ve been there.

“That makes no sense! He can’t even ignore a child crying, he wouldn’t have let something like that go, not without investigating it. The TARDIS would’ve brought him there, she always takes him where he needs to go! Something stopped them. Stopped them from helping you and…and stopped them from exploding.”

“I don’t know about all that, it sounds a little farfetched…”

“You’re Torchwood, you’ve seen a gazillion extraterrestrials, but this is farfetched?”

“Touché, Mrs. Pond. Touché.”

* * *

The trip to the practice range was filled with even more crazy theories and speculations, and not just from Amy either. Ianto’s own mind was practically yelling all sorts of possibilities. If Canary Wharf had never happened, what did that mean for its victims? Was Lisa alive out there? Was he there, happily married with a half-a-dozen of children? But those weren’t the only questions. Which of their realities was the ‘right’ one? If he remembered a world that was at least partially without the Doctor and Amy remembered one without the Cybermen and the Dalek attacks, the choice on whose world would need to be retrieved was simple. Even for him. What he wouldn’t give to save everyone who died at the hands of those wretched monsters.

_But would you give up Jack?_

That was it, wasn’t it? If he vowed to save that world and in turn Lisa, then he would’ve lost the reason to go to Torchwood Three. He wouldn’t see Jack as anything other than a peculiar man who liked to flirt. He would’ve never have met Tosh, Owen and Gwen. Wouldn’t have had to grieve death of the former two either.

“-So I was thinking, maybe this whole thing has to do with this Silence thing prisoner zero mentioned, or maybe it’s some kind of reaction to resetting the universe? Ianto? Hello, you there?”

“I...yes, nothing to worry about.”

“You sure? ” She was carefully keeping her eyes on him, as if he might break down at the slightest touch. He wasn’t up to dealing with this yet. Not yet.

“Yes. Fine. We’re here.” He led her onto the range, which didn’t look all that different from the one at Torchwood. The paper targets were holoscreens and the whole thing looked a lot sleeker and whiter than that old basement Ianto’s organisation hid.

Amy was already bouncing towards a rather surprised Angelica.

“Angie! Angie! We found something, it’s big. No, it’s bloody huge!”

The Time Agent looked at her and then back at him. Took a deep breath, probably counted to ten in her head and smiled.

“So, let me guess, you found the Judoon shotgun?”

This derailed their redhead for a bit.

“Well, yes. That too. It’s kind of ugly though. Besides that MITRE cannon is much larger and...That wasn’t what I was going to say.-” Amy frowned “-Ianto, what was I going to say?”

_Typical. Leave it to Amy to discover a lead on the most pressing matter in the universe and promptly forget it in favour of a cannon._

“Our timelines differentiate, we believe it has something to do with the Doctor.”

And that was all it took for Mrs. Pond to do a stationary bounce again. It scared him sometimes, how enthusiastic she was about all of this. It was that reckless, dangerous kind of enthusiasm that Jack displayed right before everything went to hell.

“Fascinating.-” Angelica didn’t seem fascinated at all and Amy deflated again “- I’ll look into it later. Now, Ianto, I can show you how to properly hold most of these and then I expect you to take over from there.”

_Huh?_

Why was she shelving this away? Surely it was more important than shooting 101. Looking into Angelica’s eyes however, betrayed the story behind it. She was uncertain, had probably worked up the courage to do this now, and only now. If they were deferred now, it wouldn’t come up again. Why though, he had thought that, based on his previous experiences, it was a Time Agent’s prerogative to be the first to play with the guns.

 _Jack certainly liked to pretend that that was the case in the bedroom._  

“Excuse me, but I have no clue how to handle these things, I don’t know anything about the recoil, their effectiveness...”

“You’ll do fine, I’m sure.”

“Even if that was the case, it would be terribly inefficient to let me-”

“You’re the best qualified for it, you should be the one to do this.”

This wasn’t about his qualities. Angie loved logical decisions as much as Tosh had and would go miles out of her way to make sure things ran smoothly.  Fine, if that was how she wanted to play the game.

“Why do you feel I would be better qualified for this?”

“I’ve told you-”

“Angelica.”

It was a warning, Ianto figured she understood that, if the foul look on her face was any indication.

“Fine. Fine, I...it’s just that...Icantshootforshit.” She had said the last part so softly and fast that he didn’t even get it the first time. Neither had Amy apparently.

“Come again?”

“I said-” she growled“- I can’t shoot for shit. I’m the worst marksman in the Agency. It’s why I was never sent out on missions and why I can’t teach you how to handle these things. Sure, I know every stance, I know detailed information on most of the weapons in the armoury, but I never got the aim right. ”

Ianto’s stomach plummeted at that. He had thought that there was at least someone who could properly defend this place. Their attack power, should they ever need it, had just been cut almost in half. He would need to train not one, but two people and he wouldn’t have the help he thought he would have. That itchy feeling of helplessness crept up on him again. This was going to take longer than he expected. 


	10. To navigate the darkness.

* * *

_Fairford military base, 2011._

 

 _Alright Rory, this is not the biggest problem you've ever faced._  
   
He was running through the complex while trying to turn off the alarm at the same time. Capture was inevitable at this point, but if he played this right, it might not be the end of his plans. He only needed to get this last part out of the base immediately, not himself. Of course, ending up in jail wasn’t exactly beneficial to his timing, but it would do.           
   
First things first, rig the bloody alarm. He pulled out the last wire and, _thank God,_ the box went silent. Once the ringing in his ears subsided, he could hear the rest of the base moving around. Trying to find him. One thing was sure, getting out the way he came in wasn’t an option. When he heard footsteps approach, Rory turned to a nearby set of boxes. They were placed next to the roof and could lead him up there, he’d be better off up there, if only for a little while.

He sat there with the little black case that had ruined his entire plan. It was a good thing that he only needed a chip, a very small chip. One that wouldn’t shut down the entire system. The device would still work, but less accurate. He opened the thing using his pocketknife, turned over the motherboard and removed the chip. Below him, soldiers were still patrolling around. 

Looking up ahead, Rory realized that going near the fences would probably be stupid, they would be expecting him to try and escape. If they were defending anything, it would be the perimeters. That squashed the idea that he could just drop the chip over the fence and sneak back later to get it.

He considered swallowing it, but who knows where they’d check him once he was apprehended. The thought alone left him squirming a bit. Next plan, leave it in a place where no-one would look and where Maria could fetch it later. The barracks would probably have personal lockers, that should work.

The next problem was that if they caught him with this case, and they would catch him with it, because otherwise he had no explanation for the whole alarm-going-off thing. If they did, then they would thoroughly investigate it, would notice the missing chip and would want to retrieve it. He’d be the first person to ask. Again, it could provoke some very unpleasant probing. 

The solution provided itself when he looked back to the warehouse. Climbing off the roof, he made sure that no-one saw him. It was a good thing they weren’t asking random soldiers to identify themselves yet. Being dressed up as an engineer meant that he could easily make his way through the camp. With the box safely hidden in his jacket, Rory just prayed that no-one would think to ask him who he was.

While reaching the barracks wasn't as difficult as Rory might have imagined it to be, sneaking into a women’s dressing room and finding out which locker belonged to his accomplice definitely was. Once he finally figured out how to rig the locks on them, he still had to search for the one that belonged to Maria (turns out it was the one with all the family pictures in it, predictable really). While making sure that none of female soldiers would see him. Because wouldn't that be fun, trying to explain what he was doing there.   
   
The only clue he had that someone was coming were footsteps and the click of a door. He was lucky to have even heard it the first time.

Rory literally had seconds to climb on top of a set of the closets; they obviously weren’t very meticulous when it came to cleaning. The thick layer of dust made him want to either sneeze his lungs out or just jump down from the structure regardless of the consequences. Once he had stilled his immediate disgust at two lost socks and a dead mouse in the corner, he could focus on what was happening below.

“Did you hear? Apparently we’re being re-assigned tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I heard. Some old army barracks right, Cow...something? ”

“Cowbridge. They want us to guard an oven that’ll cremate the brain-dead folks there.”

“Christ, that’s morbid. Shame we can’t turn down orders, eh.”

“You could, If you’re interested in being court-martialled for treason. Besides, someone’s got to make sure that the corporate assholes don’t get to run the show there.”

“Hah, court-martialled. Can you imagine where Jamie would be if I end up behind bars?”

“Probably swimming in dirty laundry and overdue dishes. By the way, how’s the..umh..trying going?”  
“Yeah, we’ll be meeting with a fertility expert in two weeks. See what our options are. I’m not giving up though, I want to be mom!”

They left the locker room giggling like two schoolgirls. He filed the new information away for another time. Cowbridge. Perhaps Martin would want to know about it. The next two interruptions were less ‘chatty’ and when Rory was finally able to slip out of the dressing room, he felt much more secure in his plans. Even if they did catch him with this piece of technology, as long as he managed to convince his captors that Maria had nothing to do with it, he’d get his part eventually.

Now.

The next step in plan escape-the-base, involved getting back to the avionics storage. He realized that he’d need to ditch his clothing eventually. Lest he wanted to explain where he’d found official army slacks.  

Returning to where he came from was, once again, ridiculously easy. None of the soldiers in the camp appeared to be really observing. Not one of them wondered who this strange new mechanic was while all of them were looking for holes in the fences, other signs of an obvious break-in. Did it not occur to them that the intruder snuck in via an already existing route? Well, it was probably for the best. Escaping this place might be easier than expected.

* * *

_Los Angeles, 2011._

 

There were only a few times in his life when Jack would wonder:

_How the hell did I end up here?_

The first time happened when he was seven. He had snuck aboard a transport ship during a particularly interesting game of hide and seek. The lull of the engine had rocked him to sleep and when he woke up to go home for dinner, he found himself on another planet. In the end, it was a stressful but interesting experience. He must’ve told every one of his friends at least twelve times before realizing that perhaps they weren’t as interested in space as he was.

The second time, he was twenty-four and naked in a bed with John Hart, both stuck in a time loop and apparently married. He’d shot John three times before letting him explain exactly why the man had thought it a good idea to drag a hammered Jack into one of those cheap galactic wedding chapels.

The third time, age thirty four, was when he pulled a banana out of his pocket in trying to stop an army of people calling out for their ‘mummy’. All the while a certain Time Lord was pointing a sonic screwdriver at the rabble.

The fourth time was quite simple actually. He had stopped counting his age by then, and was tied to his bed, naked again. Ianto had left the bedroom to make himself a coffee. He was yelling and yelling but the little bastard was just going to leave him hanging there, unsatisfied and with a butt plug inserted, until Jack relented to writing a form of visitation to the Flat Holm Family members. The fourth time didn’t actually happen either.

He found himself asking the question again while walking down the sunny L.A. boulevard with Gwen. Pretending to be a couple. He didn’t even know how to react to his partners nowadays, let alone play one to someone with whom he had no romantic connection whatsoever. The whole spiel was as plastic-fake as Gwen’s accent.

_Why are we doing this again?_

Because there was a man who apparently knows a thing about a place that is somehow connected to this Miracle day? He really wasn’t paying attention anymore. Jack thought it was a better idea to just go have a chat with the higher ups of Phicorp, since those guys were supposed to be important in all of this...because they were stockpiling on paracetamol?

Right.

Anyway, since the rest of the group had decided that being mortal was a synonym for A. as fragile as a newborn bird and B. a moron, they weren’t inclined to listen. Perhaps it was some kind of karma: treat everyone like they might die at any given second for a hundred years and get repaid like this.

While Jack was able to forgive them for thát, he really didn’t feel generous towards the idea that Gwen and him were the only two people capable of performing this undercover operation. Esther and sir Dickness of Dickwad were probably much better at pretending to be a run-of-the-mill American couple. If Gwen’s smile and nervous giggle were any indication, she was the one who orchestrated this.

By the looks of it though, she was regretting it now, he could sense her mood going south silently. When they’d met four years ago, he didn’t think Ms. Cooper did anything without a lot of noise, but things had changed since then. How they had changed. She would quietly seethe for a while before blowing up completely.  Perhaps Jack had gotten better at reading her, perhaps she’d been tempered a little by Torchwood or, heaven forbid, motherhood.   

Whatever it was, with the way she was now, it would only take a few hours before she’d get really, really cross. Something would pay the price. Hopefully a hostile who survived long enough for a lecture. Most likely however, it’d be on Rex, Esther and him.

* * *

  _Fairford military base, 2011._

 

He hadn´t seen it coming, but getting noticed by the troops was turning out to be almost harder than hiding from them. After leaving the warehouse, which was surprisingly calm, given the fact that that´s where the alarm had rang, Rory had walked right up to one of the officers, looked him straight in the eye and was just about to tell him exactly who he was when the man took his turn and began barking.

“You! Lieutenant! Hasn’t anyone told you we have an intruder? Go check barrage 3, I won’t have my people slacking about when we’ve got an emergency the day before check-up. Now get your arse moving.”

Aside from being a ridiculous stereotype, the man was frantic. His eyes were wide and his pupils blown. Surely this officer, who had probably seen a battlefield, one way or another, couldn’t be that worked up over one inspection.

There was more happening here. Not just a miracle day, not just people not dying. He’d seen it everywhere. Martin’s story about paranoid governments and their inexplicable measures for it, Maria’s readiness to start a full blown guerilla war instead of simply speaking up. None of it made sense, but everyone was doing the same thing: They feared something. Something they couldn’t control and as a result, lashed out. Violently and uncoordinated, like a trapped animal.

They were going for each other’s throat for no good reason. The politicians feared the people and, in turn, the people feared them right back. But what had started this? Why now? It wasn’t the immortality. The fact that no-one died anymore was scary, but definitely no reason to put people in camps. Especially not with all the other possibilities available.   

There was too much evidence to ignore this issue again.

As he was combing through the corners of barrage 3 (and since he was looking for himself, he had no worries of coming back empty handed) Rory realized that the plan for finding his girl would have to be put on the backburner. This issue would distract him and when he was distracted, things usually exploded. The last thing he needed was the accumulated efforts of the last decade to go to ruin.

_Fine._

Was something festering in the government? Maria had mentioned the child issue of a few years back. No-one had responded outrageously back then, in fact, people had been suspiciously quiet. Hardly anyone had asked what exactly they were planning with the kids. Why? Fear again. A cozy little family down the street had explained to him that they had been so shaken up with their kids’ behavior, questioning the authorities hadn’t even occurred to them. 

It was true, when you’re constantly looking over your shoulder; you’re guaranteed to miss what’s right in front of you.

Whatever was happening here, All of it had started with official policy. That’s where the threads led to. Now all Rory had to do was follow them until he struck gold.

So what would get him closest to the inner workings of the UK's governing body?  
   
Martin perhaps?         
   
No, although the man probably had a litany of contacts at Whitehall, Rory didn't want information broker that close to his plans. There was a very real chance that said contacts paid him to keep an eye out for infiltrators. Stealing bits and bobs was one thing. Unveiling a nationwide conspiracy was a whole different kettle of fish.           
           
Did he have anyone on the inside?    
   
 _Doubtful, considering the fact that you barely even know your own neighbors._  
   
The only way he'd get in was by himself. Perhaps though, he could spin his unfortunate accident with the army into an advantage. Because these were the trusted dogsbodies of the parliament. They were the ones getting the icky grand scale assignments, if that conversation in the locker-room was any indication.  
   
His fake ID badge was shining in the dull lamplight.    
   
 _Two choices then. Either try to bluff my way into the ranks, or commit a crime so vile that they'll put me at the receiving end of their plans_.              
   
If he was honest, he really didn't like the odds of his last option. Either find out what's going on, or die trying. Of course he could always use the bluff as plan A and then fall back on the criminal one, if necessary.

* * *

_Los Angeles, 2011._

 

_Count to ten, Jack. Just count to ten. Calm yourself._

It was one thing to shoot the guy who had been trying to incapacitate them. It was a whole different matter to write him off as useless once you did. Especially if he was very much capable of answering questions. Never mind logic, his amazing colleagues were just going to go and forget his presence now that he stopped making loud noises.

Jack left Gwen to rage at the injustice of putting people in camps. He agreed with her, it was beyond barbaric. Putting a stop to it was a noble, although rather useless, effort. Something had messed up the timeline and if he could figure out how to undo it, he’d be able to prevent everything that was happening here.

The fact that Phicorp was setting up an expensive healthcare system suggested that they were going to make a billions. Someone in that company was becoming very successful. Another point that agreed with his temporal fuckup theory.

While Gwen and Rex were discussing how to bring down their next target, Jack approached the hitman, now pathetically gurgling up his own blood, held him by the arms and dragged him around the corner. No-one would see this. He couldn’t have the others interfering in this delicate mission. It would only take one wrong move, one obvious shot in the right direction and his target would run again. No, something as delicate as this, so easily compromised, should not involve those three.

He squatted next to the man, looked him in the eyes and began to casually card his hand through the short grey hair near the guy’s temple.

“Well, that was quite something wasn’t it? I suppose you didn’t expect there to be another guy.” He kept his voice gentle, because for one, it scared his opponent shitless and two, he didn’t want to attract any attention.

The hitman gurgled again. Jack decided to see if he could find any indication of the stranger’s identity. His pockets turned up empty, aside from a mobile phone. Which only held one unnamed number and no other information. When he called the number, a computerized voice on the other end of the line told him that it had been disconnected.

“So… No name. No ID. No nothing. What are we going to do with you, Bob? I think I’ll call you Bob for now. You look like one. Now then Bob, would you mind answering some questions for me?”

Bob looked at him as if he had just grown another head.

“Oh come on, this could work. All you have to do is nod or shake your head. Nod for yes, shake for no. Besides, you’re dead anyway. That place in ‘the new world order’ isn’t going to happen anymore.”

Resignation dawned on the man’s face.

“Alright! That’s the spirit! Let’s start with the most obvious question. Do you know why you had to kill us?”

He shook his head.

“Right, didn’t think you would. Do you know what’s causing the Miracle?”

He shook again.

“Not unexpected. Do you know who hired you?”

Bob nodded. Jack smiled and carded his hand through the man’s hair again.

“Great. Let’s see, who would want Gwen and me dead?”

_This is going to be a long list.  
_

“Is it Phicorp?” 

His head shook.

“No? That’s certainly surprising.” _Not to mention brilliant, if his target didn’t feel threatened yet.  
_

“Oswald Danes then?”

Another negative. 

“Pffff….I suppose I can’t persuade you to play charades on the subject?”

Bob almost went cross-eyed at the suggestion.

“Don’t tell me it’s the Government again?”

The hitman nodded. Jack felt the blood drain from his face.

_Not this again. No way. I am not getting blown up and encased in concrete again. Why are they still doing this? It makes no sense. What’s the point?_

“Why?!”

Bob looked helpless.

“Right. Sorry. Damn, this is frustrating. You don’t know why.“

“Jack, what’s going on back there?!”

His interrogation time was over, it seemed.

“Just putting this poor bastard out of his misery!”

Bob nodded and pulled a grateful face.

_Might as well, his contractors aren’t going to be happy when they find out he failed. Not to mention what would happen to him in the overflow camps. More importantly, they can’t interrogate him about us if he’s not awake.  
_

He took out his gun, aimed it just above the man’s nose. Right where the center of his consciousness would be-

“Sorry Bob.”

-and pulled the trigger.


	11. Owner of a lonely heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this is late. I'd meant to post it yesterday but...errr...New Year's hangover, and it just didn't happen.
> 
> Anyway, here it is, in the aftermath of the holidays. Enjoy!

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

Amy was bored.

_Bored, bored, bored!_

When they had told her she was going to be taught how to use a gun, she figured it would be exciting. Sure, she’d never been that enthusiastic about weapons and seeing how the Doctor reacted to them hadn’t helped. But she reckoned the lesson would be a bit thrilling at least.

Except it really wasn’t…

First Ianto and Angelica had discussed whatever they’d had on the table. How these guns differed from the ones in the 21st century, then Ianto had done a thirty minute speech on safety measures, how you weren’t supposed to handle them and where you weren’t supposed to aim them at. Now he was explaining how they worked. _Like Angelica hadn’t just explained it to him._ And showing the different poses you were supposed to take when firing one of them.

After ten minutes, Amy had lost interest and began tapping her foot in the rhythm of her favourite song. When they’d asked her to stop, she began imagining Rory wearing a Time Agent’s outfit. Which was a bit too distracting, and she was once again asked to keep her focus on Ianto. She did. She was now picturing him in that French maid outfit she had for her previous job.

“-Amy, are you still paying attention?” 

“Oui madam, don’t worry about me.” Oh, angry really didn’t go well with that little dress.

“Fine then, please repeat what I just said.”

She sighed, and droned up his last four sentences, not even really registering what came out of her mouth.

“And because these weapons don’t use actual bullets, but rely on high velocity molecule-sized projectiles, they’ll cause burns in addition to bullet holes. Their recoil will be less because the explosion in the barrel is much more contained; therefore it requires a different stance. Smaller blasts will create less damage, while the larger ones can do as much as a regular bullet if not more. Amy, are you still paying attention?”  

_Hah! Take that, mister Jones! Thank you, secondary school for teaching me how to multitask!_

“Right…Well, I suppose we should get started with the practical side of things.”

He motioned her to stand up and picked up both the safety goggles and earplugs.

“Alright then, show me how you think you should stand when firing a gun.”

She roughly copied what Ianto had shown her ten minutes ago, and waited for his judgment.

“That’s quite good-” The sound of his voice was muffled by her earplugs “ -but you’ll want to turn your right foot a bit more.”

He did his little pose from before, so she could correct her own and then gave her the okay to fire.

 _This is it, here we go._  

It was more nerve-wrecking than she had imagined. Sure, she was just shooting holograms now, but the next time it could easily be a living thing. Sweaty palms and shaking legs ignored, she pulled the trigger.

The bullet missed its target by miles.

Amy took a deep breath, put her gun back down on the table and turned to Ianto. The smug bastard was smiling at her.

“Not bad, not bad. Go on, then. Try again.”

“What do you mean, not bad? It didn’t even go near the thing in the middle.”

“Do you honestly think that many people hit the bulls-eye on their first try? You stood right, took your time to aim, controlled your breathing and handled the gun correctly after you shot. Aim can easily be trained, trigger-happy lunatics can’t. The only thing I’d like you to correct is the stiff posture of your left arm.”

Alright, so maybe he wasn’t being smug. Just genuinely proud of her.

“Perhaps it’d go better if I only used one arm?”

“No. I’d really rather you didn’t. Less control you see. You have two arms, use them when you can. One well-placed bullet can do a lot more damage than a spray of twenty wobbly shots. Not to mention collateral damage and ammunition shortages. Let’s try again, shall we?”

“Yes sir!”

As soon as it appeared, the sad look in Ianto’s eyes was gone again.

About three tries later (Angelica was happily tapping away on her I-Time-Agency-pad), They found the main reason for Amy’s misfires.

“So, the fact that you could hurt someone, kill someone, with that gun makes you nervous?” Ianto was sitting on the edge of the table now. After having removed the gear and putting down the arms, they were discussing tactics.

“Well of course, stupid! These things are dangerous...and…and…do you know how many people died because of them?!”

“Obviously, you’re right. Why d’you think I gave an entire speech on safety just now. I’m not exactly fond of speaking in public, you know-”

“You did fine.” That was their Time Agent, adding her five pence to the conversation.                              

“-but that’s beside the point right now. A gun is not some kind of instant death machine. It is what it is, a bit of metal flying at a high velocity. If you’re not sure you should shoot, don’t. Only use the gun when you absolutely have too. Look at it this way, the best chance you have of not accidently hurting or killing someone is if you know what you’re doing.”

“Can’t we just do this without the guns? I mean, the Doctor does it.”

Somehow, that didn’t convince Ianto.  
“The Doctor is, and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, an incredibly talented and highly advanced alien.  He’s literally had centuries to work his way around guns, and even then, things go wrong sometimes. I’m not saying I like guns, I’m saying that right now. Here. We need them. We will avoid the use of weapons whenever we can, but the truth is: the nutjob that killed everyone here, he’s not going stop until he’s either dead or at someone’s gunpoint. ”

She had to give it to him, the man had a point. The guns, they were scary in her hands, but how frightening would they be in those of a psychopath.

_Don’t use them lightly and if you can, don’t use them at all. But if you have to stop the ones who’ll hurt your friends, do so._

_…_

_Alright, maybe I can do this._

“I guess…I think I want to try again.”

Ianto motioned her to move to the booth again. Amy put on the safety glasses and just before she could put in the last earplug, The Welshman put his hand on her shoulder.

“Tell you what, you put 10 rounds inside the first circle, we’ll pull out that bottle of spacevodka we found and after dinner, we’ll make it a party.”

And just like that, the simple promise of some downtime cleared up every thundercloud in her head.

“ohoooh, Ianto m’boy, consider that challenge accepted!”

Her next shot hit the target right in the third circle. 

_Watch out ladies and gentlemen, Amy’s going to get herself a party!_

* * *

She might not be realizing it, but little Mrs. Pond was a natural with guns. Angelica had been watching her the whole time, from the corner of her eye of course. Sure, her stance wasn’t perfect and no, Amy probably didn’t have a clue how the guns actually worked. _There was no way she had been listening to those technical details._  But the redhead was making steady progress already.

Which was probably why Ianto was heading towards Angelica now.

“Alright, up. Let’s see what you can or can’t do.”

“I’m not going to get out of this, am I?”

“nope.”

She hadn’t expected him to back down. There was no way that a 21st century bloke was going to surpass her teachers, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to try again. _Gods know how long it’s been since you’ve even set foot in here._ She sighed for dramatic purposes, got up and went over to the table to pick up the gun in front of her-

 _GX-24 snow eagle, slight deviation to the right, average backlash with an additional feature of blinding your opponent_. _Produced early 51 st century on Railon 5. Often used for short distance shooting, but can be useful on long range as well. Requires an adjusted pose, reminiscent of the 316 stance as seen in Shooter manual version 3.4. Right leg: 165 degree corner. Left leg: 145 degrees. Right arm: 180 degrees. Left arm: 98 degrees. Angle the torso 20 degrees backward. Safety placed on the right lower part of the gun. Aim slightly lower and more to the left than you would on average. Prepare for backlash and-_

Fire.

As per usual, the shot went wide. And as per usual, the instructor had nothing to say about it. 

“So. Tell me then. Where did I go wrong? What part of my body wasn’t angled in the right way? Or is it my aim?”

And, alright, maybe it wasn’t fair to play the sarcasm card on him, but he had insisted that she’d go through yet another round of “lets-see-how-crappy-Angelica’s-shot-is”. By now she was prepared for the searching looks, she hadn’t even moved from her position, just so Ianto could study it longer.  He didn’t though.

“Nowhere. You didn’t go wrong.”

At least they could skip through the whole investigating phase. That should cut this short by about 30 minutes.

“Why did you move each of your limbs separately? Most people can handle multi-tasking their right arm and left leg at the same time.” He motioned to Amy, who was still happily firing away in her own booth, as if to make a point.

“Does it matter? The end-result is nothing short of perfect.”

“Your bullet ended about three miles west of where it was supposed to go. I wouldn’t exactly call that ‘nothing short of perfect’.” There was the sarcasm card, handed right back to her on a silver platter.

“There is no reason why it should.”

“But it did." 

Well, at least Ianto’s teaching methods were different. In a ‘squabbling like three-year-olds’ kind of way.  

“Look, I followed all the steps, made sure every part of my body was exactly in place and took the gun’s deviations into account. Is there anything else you’d like to correct?”

He walked over to her, and pulled the gun out of her hands. “I’m not your teacher, Angie. You know these things better than I do.” The weapon was now back on the table again, signaling the end of their exercise. “Let’s just figure out why this isn’t going as planned, yeah?”

“Sure, why not.” She didn’t mean to be so obstinate. Ianto hadn’t done anything other than pointing out weaknesses that were neither his fault, nor his responsibility to fix. The pressure wasn’t in the discussion anymore and as a result, both parties were motivated to finding an answer again. 

“So. You know the exact angles your body should have?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never tried to shoot using your gut-instinct?”

“No.” 

“Why don’t you try that, then?”

“Because it wouldn’t work. I mean, if I can’t get the gun to work like this, then why the hell would it work if I stop aiming?”

“I didn’t say you had to stop aiming, but you could just try to go with your gut feeling.”

“My gut feeling? What…how am I supposed to interpret that?” People kept telling her that. ‘Go with your feeling’, ‘do what you feel is best’. There were no parameters for that, no-one told you how this elusive method of ‘feelings’ worked. 

“Just, pick up the gun, and fire within three seconds. That way, you can’t think it over.”

“No.” _That wouldn’t work._

By now, Ianto was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why not?” he sighed.

“Because then I’d be setting myself up for failure.”

“This is a practice range, emphasis on the word practice. You’re allowed fuck up in here. It’s human nature to fail every once in a while.”

“Yes, thank you, I have a morgue full of dead co-workers to remind me of that.”

“You’re not the only one who does. How on earth do you plan on fighting off threats if you can’t even let yourself slip up.” The Welshman was holding his hand on his forehead.

“Build a robot. Computers don’t fail if they’ve got the logic. It’s a foolproof method.”

“What if you make a mistake in the engineering?”

“I won’t. I’m good at that.”

“So, If I understand correctly, you won’t execute a plan unless it has a 100 percent chance of succeeding.” 

“Well, at least 90 percent, yes.”

“Christ, and I thought I was obsessed with perfection.” It could have been a biting comment, but the soft tone of Ianto’s voice betrayed his understanding. She imagined that he wasn’t new to the term ‘up-tight’ either.  There was a strange balance between the two of them. Both of them were cautiously curious about the other and very comfortable with a polite distance. It was a refreshing change from most Time Agents, even if they were ten times more knowledgeable and much better with the technology. Perhaps if Ianto had arrived here before the attack, he would’ve been uncomfortable with the Agency’s hands-on techniques.

Then again…

He seemed awfully skittish whenever the topic of Boeshane came up. Angelica was certain there’d been more between them. She’d heard it all before, Agents charming the citizens from the past by using intimacies that were meaningless in the 51st century. 

A French kiss meant nothing more than a friendly ‘hello’ and an orgy was just considered a good team-building exercise. 

They’d laugh afterwards, the Time Agents, sitting around sharing small talk of the backward idiots who went through hell and back for just an inch of recognition. Angelica had never bothered with all that macho talk from field operatives. What they did was their concern, not hers. The people they conned were nothing more than names to Angelica.

Ianto wasn’t though, not anymore.  He was a friend now, someone who was willing to put up with her snide remarks and neurotic tendencies. Both him and Amy always joined her for dinner and breakfast. They’d make small talk, sometimes not even that. It was just the three of them which meant that they’d all had to become used to silences falling every now and then. The uncomfortable feelings in those had passed somewhere around day two.

While watching them potter around the shooting range, Angelica decided that she wasn’t about to let her new teammate fall prey to some hotshot Agent who needed a lackey. Either one of them. She’d teach both Amy and Ianto all those dirty tricks her colleagues seemed to enjoy so much. When Boeshane would come back to play his game of cat-and-mouse again, he’d be in for a nasty surprise. 

And if the man was, by some miracle, serious about his commitment, well then, surely he wouldn’t mind a bit more equality in the relationship, now would he?

 

* * *

_It may or may not have been a bad idea to let Amy near the hypervodka._

Ianto lamented as he watched the redhead playing air guitar with a bottle while standing on top of the couch. His tie and jacket had also been commandeered for the purposes of looking more like a rockstar.  The first was tied around her head to serve as a headband. He supposed he should be happy that the second was worn like intended, at least.

Angelica was sitting in the chair next to his and was gently tapping her glass to the rhythm of the music. They’d hacked it from the Agency’s database which, for some mysterious reason, only contained trippy 51st century beats and bad eighties songs.

“So, this. Not exactly my greatest plan ever.” 

“Yep.” Angelica slurred back at him, halfway past tipsy as well. That vodka-stuff was ridiculously strong. Jack used have a bottle of it in the back of his office, hidden between books and whatnot. They’d never shared any of it, now he knew why. Come to think of it, the thing had disappeared shortly after Tosh and Owen…just, after.

“You thinkin’ about your Boeshane beau again?” Angie giggled at her own lame joke.

“Sort of. Maybe. No, definitely not thinking about Jack.”

“Look man, just read his file. Maybe it’ll help. ‘S not like he doesn’t know everything about you either. ”

He had to sigh at that. Mostly because it was true, ever since Lisa Jack had known every uncomfortable truth about Ianto’s past.

“It’s not that simple, he really wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“yeah, who would? We’ve all got skeletons in our closets. Every Time Agent tries to squirrel away their weaknesses. As long as you let him hold that over your head, he’ll always have the upper hand.”

He turned to her. “Trust me, he hardly had the upper hand.” Hadn’t had it since he came back from his trip with the Doctor.

“Is that why you’re whimpering and flinching over this like a beaten wife? Hasn’t he ever done anything to thoroughly piss you off?-” That was possibly the understatement of the century “-Worst case scenario: he dumps you and really, if he does that, you were probably in love with a mirage to begin with.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, or maybe Angie’s provocations were having effect after all. But…

“Alright sure, I’ll read it-” He’d be damned if he didn’t turn this thing around to her as well. “-if I get to read yours as well.”

“Consider it a deal.” They shook hands to emphasize their agreement and turned back to Amy. Who had by now pushed the couch back against the wall and was doing ridiculous moves on her self-made dancefloor.

It was silly. Silly and carefree and young and everything Ianto hadn’t been in a very long time. He’d buried that piece of himself in the wreckage of Canary Wharf, never to be seen again. Amy was quite beautiful and awe-inspiring like this: unabashedly happy and oblivious to the big bad world around her. Perhaps he could soak in some of her warmth by watching her, keep his own morbid thoughts at bay for a little longer. His watching didn’t go unnoticed apparently, because she was now moving towards him, still singing one of those cheesy songs.

“You-” Why was she was pointing at him? “- are the steps you take. You and you, and that’s the only waaay. Shake. Shake yourself, you’re every move you make, sooohooo the stohoory goes!”

She held out her arm, as if to lure him in. Before Ianto could truly process the gesture, he was pulled onto his feet and badgered into twirling her around. Those dance classes he’d taken with Lisa and his extensive time clubbing couldn’t prepare him for Amy’s improvised steps. Not that it mattered, because the only one who could notice was Angie and she was passed out in her chair by now.

The girl moved around him, left, then right. Backwards then. The only thing he could do to keep up was hang on to her hands while she ducked underneath them to make him twirl around for a change.

Ianto could hardly make out anything aside from her red hair (horribly highlighted with his purple tie) and the occasional smile. He was very sure that they were no longer dancing to the music. They were just moving for the sake of going faster.

The feeling of it made something bubble up inside of him. An energy that had been caged while he went on with his daily business, building up while he kept damming it in. Hell, it was about time he’d let some of it go. So when Amy giggled after stepping on his toes for the umpteenth time he giggled right along with her.  He just kept laughing, because the feeling of it was a hell of a lot better than his normal numbness. As affectionate as Amy’s laugh had been, his seemed to be even worse: The redhead giggled until there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

He laughed at himself. At the world, at Torchwood for being so damn stupid. At Tosh and Owen because they wouldn’t have wanted him to be sad. Well, Owen might have, but Ianto always got a good time out of spiting him anyway. At Jack for being dumb enough to think that ignoring love would make it go away. At Gwen for being dumb in general.  At the Cybermen for being so superior that they couldn’t even climb a flight of stairs properly. At the Daleks for looking like salt and pepper shakers.  At his sister and her idiot husband for never making anything out of their lives. At every last citizen on Earth for not noticing all the fucking aliens.

Somehow, they had managed to stay upright enough to resemble a dancing couple. Amy was quite far into his personal space right now. Which could’ve been awkward, if Angelica hadn’t interrupted it by snoring very, very loudly. Instead, the two of them descended back into cackles until they sat on the ground and Ianto choked so badly Amy had to thump him on the back. It was all quite manly.

They were lying down and staring at the ceiling when Amy remarked “Oh good, you’re not purple anymore.” She decided that by holding the tie, now removed from her head, next to his face.

“You colour-coding me, Pond?”

“Nah, just wondering if I should wake up Angie for an emergency. Hmmmm, I can’t wait to tell Rory about all of this. Being stuck on a strange space-station with a fantastic mystery to solve, Getting shooting lessons from a bona fide man in black.”

“Man in white currently. It’s quite the story, all of this, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re not looking forward to sharing this with your ‘complicated’?”

“Heh, I doubt he’d be impressed, he’s from here.”

“D’you…do you want to talk about him?” She gave him a careful look, as if he’d break into pieces if she asked more.

“Well, if you’d like, but you’d need a rehash of my entire life to understand it really. Long story, not half as interesting as you would expect.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway.” And that soft little smile made Amy an even more amazing person really.

“Alright then. Well, I was born in Cardiff, not the nice part, the shitty part with my mom, my dad and my older sister-” 

He started recounting his entire life, from his childhood idiocy’s and how he’d ran into Torchwood. Amy laughed when he told her how confused he was when the institute offered him a job after retconning him. When he started telling her about Lisa, she noticed the shift in his mood and kept quiet until he told the entire thing, up until going back to Cardiff. Explaining Jack to her was easier than coming out to his sister. Amy hadn’t even been fazed about his orientation, had confessed to liking the occasional girl herself.  He hadn’t really meant to tell her every last bit, but found himself unable to stop.

It had to happen someday, he supposed. The day when he would willingly give up his past. It was simpler this way; Amy didn’t know who he had been. She wasn’t used to overlooking him.

He was a wholly different person here, if only due to context. Here, he was their weapons-expert, Torchwood ambassador and good company if the others were to be believed. Back on earth he was an invisible tea-boy, an absent brother and uncle, just another suit on the street. If not for Jack, Ianto was sure he would’ve disappeared into thin air a long time ago.  

He liked his new persona better.

When he was done talking, there was a short pregnant pause, where he waited for Amy to say something, anything really.

“Wow. I just…wow. You should write a book someday.-” 

He snorted.

“-But in all honesty, when a man says he’d sooner jump into eternal oblivion than live his life without you, I reckon you might as well start shopping for wedding bands. Immortal or not.”

“I don’t doubt that he loves me. Not anymore anyway. There are just so many secrets and obstacles. He’s immortal and was born 3000 years in the future. If I die, it would destroy him.”

“Oh bollocks, people don’t get messed up when you love them too much. It’s the opposite really. Way you talk about him, I’d say he could commit a murder and you still wouldn’t stop loving him, right?”

“That’s true.”

“Well then work things out, you dummy! Tie him to a chair if you have too. Just talk to him until you understand each other.”

Ianto hummed noncommittally and let the conversation dissolve into a comfortable silence. Eventually though, he noticed that Amy had fallen asleep next him and that Angelica was getting an uncomfortable crick in her neck. He woke the first and pulled the second one up in a fireman’s lift to get them back to their rooms.

Meanwhile the lights were beginning to brighten again, indicating the start of a new day.


	12. Starlight.

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

 

Once she’d collapsed on her bed, Amy didn’t emerge until about ten hours later. By then breakfast had come and gone and her friends could be anywhere in the massive complex.  Rushing herself wouldn’t serve a purpose at this point. Even if Ianto and Angie had managed to drag themselves out of bed in time, which she doubted given their condition last night, they probably wouldn’t complain more about being six and a half hours late than they would about seven.

Also, headaches did nothing for her speed.

So she showered and dressed, all the while mulling through what Ianto had told her last night.  She might’ve traveled through the stars, but it really fell short when compared to his life. Whatever happened during her travels with the Doctor, it always stayed well away from home. The thought of Rory becoming a half-converted cyberman while the rest of Leadworth was murdered by Daleks scared her beyond belief. She couldn’t imagine hiding her significant other totally alone, while the world happily moved on.  No wonder he kept working for Torchwood after that: it was a suicide mission with regular paycheck.  It must’ve been quite the chore, finding a new life even amongst that.

_How is he still functioning?_

Whatever had kept him from breaking down completely, she was glad for it.

_Enough dallying Pond, get on with it._

After rushing past the kitchens for a bit of breakfast, she managed to get her vortex manipulator to display the locations of the others (nifty little thing, when it cooperated, that is).

She teleported down to the lab in the west wing with little troubles and tried to enter the room casually, as if she hadn’t just tumbled out of bed.

“Morning.” Angie sounded as hung-over as Amy felt. The Time Agent was hunched over a table with tools scattered all around her.

“Hi. Whatcha working on?” She stumbled down a couple of steps to get a better view of what was lying on the table.

A pole.

A ten foot pole with a sharp point, lots of bleeping lights and conduits running through it. The thing would’ve fit right in with the stuff on the Doctor’s shelf of spacey-wacey gizmo’s. 

“Probe.” Angelica didn’t seem ready to speak in full sentences yet. And if Amy had to wager a guess, those darkened safety goggles weren’t work-related either.

“Woohh, I feel sorry for the poor sod who’s going to get that thing up his a-”

“Not that kind of probe, Amy. Coffee, by the way?” That was Ianto, swooping in and looking horribly chipper for the amount of vodka he’d chugged down. The man was carrying a box with even more technological equipment under his arm. 

“Yes, please, and how are you so…sober right now?”

After putting down the box and magically producing a thermos of coffee, he answered “I’m Welsh.” As if that explained everything.

“Oh, don’t give me that, I’m Scottish and my head’s still banging away.” She was given a mug of black tar to shut her up. Which, sadly, did just the trick. A blissfully caffeinated moment later, Amy returned to her original question.

“So, what exactly are you working on?”

Since Angelica was still imitating a bear waking from hibernation, Ianto took over.

“Well, we figured out yesterday that our memories aren’t exactly lining up. This-” motioning to the Time Agent “-little ray of sunshine decided to see if she could get some energy readings on what’s happening in the universe. More specifically: what’s happening on Earth.” 

“Wait, if we can phone home, why didn’t we start building this thing a week ago?”

“Because it’s about as effective as doing an x-ray on a lead plate. You can tell it’s lead, but not much else.-” The other woman groused. “-We might be able to see what differs from the norm but it’s never going to tell us what the source is, nor are we able to send anything through it. It’s an archaic technique; I only remembered reading about it last night.”

Ianto was rummaging through his box again, before coming up with a glove. It was padded with some kind of metal and, like all the other clothing here, white.

“Angie, I reckon I found it.”

The Agent turned to him and nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. There should be more in that same section.” And then he was gone again, disappearing through the same doorway as where he came from.

“What was that all about?”

Angelica rolled her chair away from the table and looked at her.

“The probe won’t work in here, because the Agency isn’t making contact with the rest of the universe. We’ll need to put it up on a place that’s marginally protected but still capable of receiving information from the rest of the universe.”

“Right…so where does the glove come in?” Amy still didn’t understand where this was going. She hadn’t even realized they could make contact with the outside-world.

“I take it you’ve seen the falling stars outside?” She nodded “Basically, that’s the barrier between the time vortex and our own little bubble of nothing. It’s where we’re going and it’s also very dangerous. If a regular person walks in there without some kind of protection they’ll be ripped apart on an atomic level, every bit of you ending up in a different part of time and space.”

“And the glove will protect us.”

“Just the glove won’t, but the entire suit will. The padding is silver.”

“Oohhh, that’s fancy. On the risk of sounding like a broken record, why?”

“What did they teach you aboard that TARDIS?” Angelica sighed, because apparently it was all very obvious. “Silver is a conduct for artron particles, you know, the energy that whirls around in the vortex and allows us to time-travel? Anyway, silver basically keeps the particles in line, making sure we don’t get killed when we’re walking through the barrier.”

“So, your probe, is that silver as well?”

“Exactly!” The Agent smiled and dragged Amy to one of the windows. “See those-” she pointed to the strange sail-shaped ends that rested atop many of the towers “- they’re silver-plated as well. To make sure any residual artrons don’t destroy the buildings behind it.”

“Isn’t that expensive?”

“It’s a lot cheaper than most temporal conductors.”

Ianto chose that moment to return with an even bigger box in his hands. Both she and Angelica moved to help him carry it.

“Don’t worry about it; I’m used to this kind of work. There’re two more in the back, if you could fetch those please.”

When the two other cases, smaller than the first Amy noted, were placed on the table, Ianto was already laying out three near identical suits. They were pretty sleek compared to the 21st century space get-up, but it still took at least 30 minutes to suit up. 45 if you put half of it on backwards, like Amy did.

Meanwhile, Angelica was taking her probe apart, the thing consisted of 10 pieces. Each part could be clicked onto the next. She divided them into two silver suitcases.

When they were all wearing the suits, Amy with a little help from Ianto, the time had come to head outside.   

* * *

 

It was strange, Ianto lamented, that in all his years chasing aliens, he had never worn an actual space-suit before. Sure, he’d worn gasmasks, _except when it mattered, mind you,_ and even the suit of a construction worker but never something like this.

The thing was a little heavy and walking was a bit more difficult. He had expected there to be some kind of airlock, or anything really, but Angelica just lead them to a small corridor with a simple sliding door, like those in the rest of the compound. She didn’t even bother to put on the helmet.

Following her example and sincerely hoping he wasn’t about to die, Ianto stepped outside. Helmet in one hand and suitcase in the other.

They followed the Time Agent as she headed towards the gigantic dark veil in the distance.                
  
“Do you think we’ll get home soon?” Amy asked him. By now, the wind was blowing her hair around like a plaything. Although, it probably wasn’t so much wind, as it was artron backlash.

“I’m not really sure I have anything left to go back to, really.” Jack would’ve left Earth, his family certainly wouldn’t miss him anymore, Gwen was too occupied playing mum and everyone else was dead.

“Don’t be so melodramatic, stupid! You’ve got me and Rory, obviously. You’ll like Rory, he’s about as snarky as you are. Also there’s your husband to consider!”

“Sorry…my what?”  
“Your Jack! He loves you loonng time and you love him right back.” She was teasing him. She was teasing him with what was probably the most complicated issue in his life. Ianto had never considered Amy evil, but right now, he wondered if she wasn’t growing horns under that red mop of hair.

“He is not my husband, Amy! He couldn’t even admit we were actually having a relationship.”

“Oh pff, like you can! No, seriously, you were both in a life-long committed monogamous affair. More commonly known as marriage. Just because you can’t say the word tiger, doesn’t mean animal is anything other than a tiger. ”

“Amy, what we had...it wasn’t like that!”

“Did he have your house key?”

“Well, yes, but that’s standard Torchwood procedure.”

“Did he frequently use it?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Did he have his own toothbrush at your place?”

“Yes.”Ianto gritted out, he really didn’t like where this conversation is going.

“Were you going to spend the rest of your life with him?”

“I already did.”

“Did he, or did he not say that he would rather spend the rest of his eternal life in oblivion rather than without you?”

“Yes…”

“There you go. Married!” She was walking backwards faced towards him now. “The only way you’re ever going to accept it is if you stop being scared of the big words.”

“I am not scared of those words.”

“Alright, sure. Then you won’t mind me singing this: Jack and Ianto sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage!”

“What are you, five?”

“At least I don’t think boys have cooties anymore.” She stuck out her tongue and for one horrible second, Ianto had the urge to do the same.

“We’re about to enter the barrier.” Angelica called back, dutifully ignoring the fact that Amy was now repeating the rhyme over and over again.

“Well, that’s our cue. Put on your helmet.” _And stop singing that bloody song, please._

It was like walking into dark blue blizzard. One moment he could see fine, the next his vision was blotted with blue specks racing past him. The silver plates on his suit creating little sparks between them. Up ahead, he saw the vague outline of Angelica. Finally, the white clothing made sense. Most other, darker colours would become near invisible here.

Ianto turned around to see if he could see the Agency from here, but not even the silver towers stood out. Just mist. After fiddling with the controls of his now protected vortex manipulator, he got the radio started.

“So…emh..how far up ahead do we have to go?”

“Just a few miles.” Angelica voice crackled into his helmet.

Amy sidled closer to him, her earlier joy completely gone. She was ramming on the buttons of her own manipulator, but wasn’t quite able to work around the clumsy gloves. Their Time Agent, now more in her element, turned around and pressed them for her.

“Try again, Amy.”

“HELLO!?” Both him and Angie recoiled a bit.

“Easy there Pond, your indoor voice will suffice.”

“D’you come here a lot?”

“Mostly when we’re checking to see if the edge isn’t crumbling. Sometimes to tow out crashed ships.”

“The edge?” Amy had regained her curiosity again.

“Yeah. Walk another twenty miles and you’ll find that the land has been ripped apart by the vortex.-”         
   
"-This should do." Angelica had stopped. The point itself was non-specific, the artron storm however, roared stronger here than it did a few steps back.  
   
Under normal circumstances, it would've been easy to assemble the probe, but the combination of the suits and the barrier slowed the process substantially. It was tiresome as hell to even get the necessary parts out of their cases. Meanwhile, their Time Agent was using a high-pressure air-gun to make a hole in the ground.

When the first five feet of the pole were in one piece again and put up straight, Amy began clicking the other parts on top of it. Ianto absently noticed she was still fumbling with her glove.

It was only this eye for detail that allowed him to stop an impending disaster.

“Wait! Amy, stop! Don’t move!” He grabbed her hand.

The fingertip of her glove was stuck in between two pieces. If she pulled her hand away now, the thing would tear, or worse, hang on to the probe completely. 

“Oh, for the love of-” Angelica had noticed it as well.

“Crap.” so did Amy by now.

“Angelica, detach it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” He tried to put a hand on his forehead except, obviously, helmet.

“I made it foolproof. Once I activated the switch, weaknesses in the technology were covered, so the thing wouldn’t be affected at those places.”

“Well, don’t make things foolproof; you might end up killing the fool!” Amy sounded irritated rather than afraid.

“That’s it. We tear this thing down now and drag it with us if we have to.” They could manage it, it wouldn’t be easy and they’d have to make a new one but at least no-one would get hurt.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Oh Jesus Christ. No, wait. Don’t tell me. You made a ‘foolproof’ way of keeping it in the ground.”

“Look, it’s not that big a deal. You caught it on time, we can just tie off the sleeve and she’ll only lose her hand-”

“What?!” The redhead was finally starting look as worried as he was.

“- temporarily. She’ll only lose her hand _temporarily._ We put her in a tank and she’ll be fine, no harm done.”

“So much for that 90 percent mission success rate, eh?”

“To be fair, the mission was to get a probe in the ground. We definitely did that.” Angelica deadpanned. Ianto had to hold Amy back physically. Not because of violence, there was no real intent behind the slaps, but to make sure she didn’t break that glove after all. 

“Alright, alright! Amy, sit still. We’re going to finish this probe and then we’ll figure out how to solve this mess.”

The peace that came from that only lasted as long as their little building project.

“So, you’re going to tie this off and then my hand is going to be scattered across time and space. Great.” The redhead didn’t even try to keep the vitriol from her voice.

“I am really very, very sorry. I should’ve paid better attention or...or made some kind of emergency kill-switch in it.”

“How much will this hurt and what’s the risk of artrons breaching the suit?”

“Agonizing and about 45 percent.”

“Going back to base to retrieve another glove will take too long, I guess.”

“Yes, we’ll run out of air before we can make the trip three more times.”

That wouldn’t do. He should’ve checked the probe before they left, checked their suits more thoroughly, built the damn thing himself, anything.

“Can we give her one of our gloves?”

The blonde went a little pale at the suggestion.

“I….well, I suppose we could…b-b-but it’d be very impractical if I’m impaired on the way back. You know, just in case something goes wrong.”

Ah. So the big bad Time Agent was scared of something after all.

“I wasn’t suggesting you’d be the one to do it.”

“Oh. Yes, we can do that-”

“Angie! We are not letting him do that!” Amy was struggling to hold still.

“-but it wouldn’t really be worth the risk. You’d both be injured. Her hand would be exposed anyway, so there’d still be superficial cell scattering.”

“That wouldn’t be much more than an inconvenience right?”

“For her, sure, but you’d still lose a hand.”

“We are NOT doing it and that’s final! Angelica, Tell him!” The redhead nearly toppled over at that.

“He’ll probably cope a lot better with the pain than you would.”

“Well, I’m not taking my glove off.”

“Damn. I suppose I’ll be wasting my perfectly good hand for nothing then.” To demonstrate his intent, he started undoing the clasps on the glove.

Amy spluttered a few more times, even resisted slightly when she had to make room for Ianto to squat next to her.  Eventually though, redfaced and quite angry, she gave in.

“Right. So, is everyone ready?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I hate you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

With Angelica looking over his shoulder and Amy’s hand as close to his as they could possibly get, Ianto began pulling off his glove. They started calmly at first, up to the point where both his and Amy’s glove were barely on.

“In three...two….one…GO!”

The procedure was completed without a hitch. Amy’s hand was in the glove and away from the probe within seconds. He was already congratulating himself on a job well-done when he noticed something.

Or rather, a lack of something.

When he looked down at his hand, Ianto was expecting to find a bloody stump or something equally gruesome. Instead, it was still there, not harmed in the slightest bit. Where the rest of the air was filled with blue artron specks, around his bare hand it was swirling with little orange ones.

_Looks a bit like the rift really._

Amy was slowly getting up, the question marks practically floating above her head. Angelica was still standing behind him, completely speechless.

“Okay, did not see that one coming.” Maybe not completely speechless then.

She picked up her beloved scanner and held it next to his arm.

“Is it….supposed to do that?” Amy had found her voice as well.

“No, it sure as hell isn’t.” 

* * *

 

 All of them were remarkably meek during the trip back. Angelica figured that was normal. As far as normal went with these two. First they show up, no time-machines, no VM’s, nothing. Then it turns out one’s affiliated with her old schoolmate and the other with a member of an extinct race. Next thing, entire universe decides that the temporal laws don’t fly anymore.  Now, one of them walks away from one of the most destructive forces known to man unscathed.

“D’you think it’s because I’m dead?”

Oh, and then there’s that.

 “No Ianto, I don’t think it’s because you’re dead. Because you’re not dead, I checked it.”

“Well, your scanner didn’t exactly pick up on this, now did it?”

“We don’t regularly look for artron related material in a bio-scan.” _After all, what are the odds of a highly unstable non-organic element occurring in a human body?_

High enough apparently, because Ianto seemed just fine. Even though the discoloration persisted, there was no visible cellular breakdown. Once they left the barrier behind, the Welshman’s sparkle died out as well.

Angelica was already going through several possibilities of how this could have happened while opening the door. When they were taking off their suits she was debating with herself if she should investigate this before or after she set up the scan for Earth.

“Whoo guys, I think I broke my VM again.”

“It’s not just you, Amy, it’s all of us.”

Lost in thought as she’d been, Angelica had missed the insistent buzzing on her vortex manipulator.

_Crap._

_…_

_Crapcrapcrapcrap. Why can’t people ever pick a good moment to do these things._

“Get your guns out.-” Whisper, don’t talk too loudly. They might hear. “-Do it now.” Find a strategic place to hide out.

Ianto was against the wall with a gun in his hand mere seconds later. Amy took a little longer, but ducked behind a crate eventually.

“What’s going on?” the redhead was stage-whispering, it wasn’t perfect but would do for now. 

“That buzz? It’s the burglar alarm. Someone travelled through time to get in here.”

Next thing she knew, Amy was back on her feet, practically yelling: “Maybe it’s the Doctor!” before Ianto and Angie managed to pull their teammate back behind the crate.

Her “Are you insane?” was nicely complimented with a “Not bloody likely.” from Torchwood’s finest.

“How would your Doctor know where to look? We couldn’t make contact with the outside-world; he doesn’t know where the Agency is. He probably doesn’t even know that you’re missing. The odds of this being whoever killed my people are far greater. Even if there was a significant chance of it being your friend, I’d still rather be safe than sorry.”

“Angelica? Can you look for lifeforms with your VM?” Ianto was surveying the area for any close-ranged threats.

“Easy-peasy.” She was running three scans already.

_Thank the heavens, there’s only one of them._

“One hit, human, on the south corridor, heading towards the armory.”

“Right. That’s a linear hallway. You and Amy, head towards it via east. I’ll take west.”

“West is a longer route, what if we don’t reach the target at the same time?”

“I’m quicker than the two of you but just in case, don’t engage unless you have to. We’ll maintain radio silence, it’s likely our target has a VM as well and betraying our presence is the last thing we want. Right now, he thinks everyone here is dead; let’s keep up that appearance for as long as we can. Got it?”

Both women nodded and just before Ianto turned away, Amy added a “Good luck” to it.

“Well, looks like it’s our turn now.”  

When they managed to get a first visual on the target, a man, it became clear that this wasn’t a certified Agent. Red rags and a pungent smell of alcohol that lingered to the other side of the hallway, he was haphazardly looking for the scanner that would open the door.

Angelica fully trusted the systems to stop anyone with that amount of liquor in their bodies from entering the armory, when the man did finally hit the scanner she tried, she really did, to get that message across to Amy. Sadly, the 51st century sign language for ‘this guy is too drunk to open that door’ translated to ‘let’s do a full-scale attack on him’ in the 21st century variation.

The redhead stormed towards the stranger and he, despite being skunk-drunk, blocked her with ease. Amy was elbowed in the nose, pushed to the wall and held at gunpoint with her own weapon. Asshole on the other hand, was fine, and decided that maybe he could hack into the most advanced system of the Agency using his very tiny VM. Her brain was screaming at her that this was hopeless.

 _Her_ e _goes nothing._

“Hands on your head and don’t even think about moving!”

_Please don’t recognize me as the klutz who can’t pull a trigger._

The man turned abruptly towards her, taking Amy with him by the hand, took one appraising look…

and burst into laughter.

_Fuck._

He went back to his hacking business, Amy’s bicep still in his right arm.

“Lang, I am not kidding, stop what you’re doing or I will shoot, damn it.”

“Angie-”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“Fine. Jelly it is. So, Jelly, I am pretty confident that as long as you’re trying to hit me, I am actually in the safest place of the room.”

Angelica was starting to feel pretty useless now, aiming a gun while the intended target was just going about his business.

“You know what?” he turned back around, swung Amy into his arms and held his gun to her temple. “Let’s try this another way. You-“ he was pointing at her now “- are going to open that door or I will shoot Red over here.” Lang sniffed his hostage’s hair, perhaps to scare her but most likely just because he could.

“Fine, sure-” _distract him, think of something, anything, he’s too plastered to recognize the deceit_ “Did…did you try to open it more than three times?”

“Well, duh. Would I be asking you if I hadn’t?”

“I should probably turn off the system then and reboot it in 10 seconds to override the history.”

_Really Vex, turn it off and on again, really?!_

“Are you trying to trick m-,”

Lang never got to finish that sentence because Amy, bless her, had managed to get an arm free and whacked him in the crotch. Angelica’s own reflexes turned out to be less horrible than she imaged they would be: she managed to snag the girl’s other arm to drag her towards safety. Safety being behind a crapshot Time Agent, for now.

“Thanks for the distraction.”

“No problem. Nice move back there.”

“All instinct.”

 “Hate to interrupt a lovely bonding experience here but I’m still holding the gun and unlike you, I can actually shoot. So, what was it you said just now ‘Hands on your head and don’t even think about moving’ or something like that.”

Giving the gun to Amy wasn’t exactly an option. The moment she’d move it, Lang would shoot and…

A gunshot.

She had unwillingly closed her eyes at the noise and wasn’t keen to open them, either to watch Amy sink to the floor or her own blood spilling out from somewhere.

“You!”

That wasn’t Lang, or Amy.

“You son of a bitch, I swore that if I ever saw you again I would make you pay for what you did to Jack!”

Ianto, perfect, amazing Ianto had shot Lang right in the knee, without hesitation or remorse.

 _Thank you, Torchwood, for training your agents to be ruthless._  

The rogue seemed more surprised than anything else.

“Goddess, who the hell are you? And whatever I did to this ‘Jack’, he probably had it coming.”

 “Don’t you dare play dumb with me, Hart!”

It took her a moment to figure out where she’d heard that name before, but when she did, things started to make a lot more sense. Angelica was damn sure going to rub that little slip up in. 

_Rule number one of the Agency: always travel with your own initials._

“Hang on, he told you his name was John Hart?”

“Yes.”

“Well there’s a blatant lie. Tsssk Lang, you even breaking Time Agent 101 now?”

“Oh, don’t go there, you cold-hearted bitch.”

Ianto, it seemed, wasn’t interested in the Agency’s policy right now and broke the spell by moving into Lang’s personal space. 

“Tell me about Jack. I know you’ve been keeping tabs on him.” The soft purr in his voice was more impressive than the boom he’d produced while yelling.

“I would love to, sweetheart, but I don’t know who that is.”

“Ianto, maybe we should lock him-”

“Boeshane! I’m talking about Boeshane, asshole!”

Angelica stepped back to let the men solve their little quarrel.

 “What? Him? Last I checked he was running some kind of scam with his new gap-toothed girlfriend.”

That was obviously the wrong answer, because the barrel of the gun was now pressed to Lang’s nose.

“Last time, that ‘gap-toothed girlfriend’ was the only thing stopping me from killing you. So, 456, did you sent those assholes to earth to get back at us?”

“Us? Who’s us?”

“Torchwood!”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re part of Boe’s little team? Why the hell didn’t I see you during the whole diamond thing?”

“You did. Does the name Eye-candy ring a bell?”

“No. No, you weren’t there. There was Gappy, Grumpy and Nerdy, but I never saw you. I’d have remembered that for sure.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Angelica knew his ticks, Lang wasn’t lying. Not this time anyway. He sincerely had no idea who Ianto was.

“Ianto, something’s off. Maybe we should just throw him in the brig and figure out what’s happening here first.”

Jones was looking at her, finally coming back from his tunnel vision. On retrospect, Angelica would decide that it wasn’t a good moment for thinking things through, because for the third time that day strategies were interrupted.

“Thanks but no thanks, I am not going back to that place.”

During their attempt to create some form of order, Lang had reached for his VM and was now disappearing into thin air.

While Ianto shot of a few rounds on the empty floor, Amy was finally connecting the dots again.

“How did he do that? We couldn’t travel, why can he?”

Scanners weren’t indicating a direct jump into the time-stream, but rather one in the other direction.

“He’s not traveling; he’s just hiding out with the neighbors.” 

“Neighbors? How does a place outside of time and space have neighbors?”

“There is some ancient space debris lying around, about five seconds out of time.”

“The Crucible.” At first, she figured Ianto was still cursing in his mother tongue but then she realized that, yes, that was a word from the English dictionary.

“The Dalek Crucible, planets in the sky, their station was hidden from the Doctor as well. At that exact location…space…time. God this is confusing. Either way, it got destroyed.”

“Yeah, our archeologists speculated they might be of Dalek origin.”

“But if he’s hiding out, doesn’t that mean that he’s-” Amy’s train of thought was apparently stimulated by hostage-situations.

“Oh, he’s coming back alright, and when he does, we’ll be ready for him.”


	13. Foot on gas, key in ignition.

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

 

_John Hart._

_John bloody Hart._

While clearing out the hallway for traps, Ianto lamented on the return of his old enemy. In some crazy way, it even made sense: because how would the universe ever reach a state of complete anarchy without that man? How could Ianto have even considered Lisa’s ex insane? What in God’s name had Jack seen in Hart? Annoying, immoral, megalomaniac, Ianto had a vocabulary full of colorful words to describe that piece of trash.

Angelica appeared next to him, took the gun out of his hands and gave him a scanner instead.

“Can’t believe Lang would change his name like that. It’s just not done.”

“Why not?” For the first time since he entered the corridor, Ianto felt doubtful.

“Time Agents are expected to use the first letter of their names when they go undercover. So they can be tracked down in case of emergency. For me, a cover could be Amelie Valderas or Anna Vermeer or something. Diedrich didn’t uphold the standard, which means that he wanted to disappear off the map completely. ”

“Wait, his name is _Diedrich_?”He knew he was grinning now and, judging by the look on Angie’s face, It was rather frightening.

“Yeah, it…umh, it’s a bit of a sore point for him actually. He often went by Lang back in the day, to avoid mockery. Keep it in mind, for future reference, you know.” 

“It seems like a simple way to get lost, just choose different initials and poof, you’re gone.” 

Scanners weren’t indicating any traps so far. 

Angelica snorted “It would be, if that was all it took. Every Time Agent has different nano-chips embedded in their body and of course, the manipulator. The initials thing is just a last resort for SOS messages to other Agents. The only ones who would really track him like that are the corporate sponsors and if Lang has indeed pissed off his money shooters…Well, let’s just say he wouldn’t last long in the 51st century if he did.” 

A little beep from their equipment signaled the all clear on any further dangers. Ianto was trying to figure out what that meant when Angelica hesitantly cleared her throat.

 “Oh, and uhh, could you maybe try to look a bit less homicidal? I think you’re scaring Amy.” 

“Sure, sorry. Sorry.” He said, but Angie had already left by then, leaving just him and the redhead. 

Amy tried to hold back her bleeding nose and was rubbing her arm from where that bastard had made a grab at her. Ianto was tempted to seek out the Crucible and get a bit of payback, but couldn’t bring himself to leave his teammate alone in her current state. Now if only he could figure out what to say to make things better.

Luckily though, old habits die hard and he was still carrying a handkerchief with him from his suit pocket.

“C’mere Amy.-” _Be gentle Jones, the last thing she needs is another brute. “-_ hold your head back. There we go.Angie told me what happened, you…ehm did great back there.”

“Thunt, wuhwazzie?” Talking with blood running over her face and that piece of cloth on her nose made understanding things rather difficult.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She sniffed and repeated: “Thanks, who was he?”

“Jack’s crazy ex.” 

“You’re kidding?”

“I really, really wish I was.”

“Damn, your boy sure moved up in the scales if he managed to snag you next.”

She always did that, making him smile at the most inappropriate moments.

 “I’d say thanks, but I’m pretty sure even a Dalek would upscale that guy.”

He gently steered her towards the mess hall, reasoning that there might be something to calm all of their nerves.

Tea perhaps, or hard liquor. Ianto wasn’t feeling very picky. 

* * *

For some reason, Amy wasn’t very worried about her recent near-death experience. Perhaps it was the Doctor’s fault, or maybe it had always been that way: when things got really hairy, her body started coming up with the most amazing plans. Usually without informing her brain. There was no room for worry or self-pity in those moments, just focus. For example, she couldn’t even remember getting her arm out of the guy’s vice-grip after it had happened, never mind the plotting to hit him in the nuggets.

Everything seemed so very simple then.

Now, though, she had a hard time figuring out whether she wanted one or two sugars in her tea.

“Alright Angie, let’s see what you’ve got for us.”

There was no fancy getup in the hall; John Hart/Diedrich Lang could return earlier than expected.

“The most important room in this agency and subsequently our plan is the control room. From there, I can regulate every aspect of the complex. We’ll know when Lang enters and will be able to catch him using the computers.” 

Ianto nodded. So far, so good. 

“Now I propose we hole up in there until he comes back. The downside? It could take a few days. We’ll need food, water…” 

“A bucket to pee in?” Amy was not going to spend a week pissing in a corner of the room, bad guys be damned.

“Don’t worry, it has those facilities. We can even shower. Now, when our guy shows up again I’m going to manipulate his path, he thinks he’s walking to the control room, but in reality, he’s walking himself straight to brig.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Lang will need to be completely pumped with adrenaline; we want him so hyped up that he’ll forget the layout of the area. The best way to do that is to make him feel like he’s being chased, and best way to do thát is to, well, chase him for real.”

“I’m assuming me and Amy will be doing the actual chasing then?” 

“Basically, yes. But I’ll be guiding your every step, there’s an entire box of magic tricks in that system to throw him off and protect you guys.”

“And you’re sure this will work?”

“Absolutely.” 

“No loopholes that might cause either of us to lose a hand?”

“No, and are you going to keep bringing that up?” Angelica grumbled while Ianto turned to Amy with a sneaky little grin. “So Pond, you up for a game of tag?” 

She gave him the thumbs up and that sort of settled things, because within the hour, they were camping out in the control room, waiting for the other Time Agent to come back to base.

* * *

_Crucible, ----_

John, refusing to go by _Diedrich_ these days, figured he was pretty damn lucky. If he hadn’t made that stop at Omega-3 for a couple of medpacks, that bullet wound could’ve gotten very nasty on the long run.

Speaking of nasty: What had Vex been doing at HQ? Wasn’t she supposed to be dead? Every tech- and support Agent present during the attack had been duck-hunted into the next millennia. Things must’ve been pretty desperate though, because that snooty bitch had never picked up a gun before in her life. Trying to save herself the embarrassment, no doubt.

_And then there’s Pretty McBlue-Eyes to consider._

So, he was one of Boe’s. Except the guy hadn’t been there when John had needed help with the ‘Arcadian Diamond’ or when Gray decided to go all rabid Judoon on the place.

Of course, he couldn’t go back and ask his former partner now, because faith thought “What the heck, let’s throw in a VM malfunction to make things interesting.” So here he was: Stuck in dead space with four, currently three, medpacks, a limited pocket of breathable air and a crazy Torchwood agent waiting for him back at the Agency.

_No booze to ease the suffering, either._

He didn’t know who the redhead was, but she had neither shown a great deal of expertise nor a very tactical mind back when, so John wasn’t very concerned. Although, she had whacked him in the jewels.

_Hope there’s not going to be any lasting damage there.  
_

When he got back, he’d have to take out Torchwood first and then Vex. He’d keep Red around for a bit of fun. Because who knew how long he’d be stuck there?

With his plan set and his knee properly healed, John decided to sleep off his hangover.

After all, killing always went much better sober.

* * *

_Time Agency_

Lang came back at night. Amy had been asleep, Ianto had been reading up on 51st century guns and she’d been watching the monitors. All the while trying to figure out why neither one of her friends had been hurt by the artron storm.

 _Amy’s arm seems to be in perfect condition, so is Ianto’s. There hás to be a connection somewhere._  

When their enemy did show up, the first thing Angelica noticed was that the ex-Time Agent appeared less drunk than usual; he’d managed to bypass the first security measure. Fortunately for them, that still left alarms two to six to shout out his presence.

“Time to gear up.” Ianto appeared next to her, gun in hand and body armor already on. Amy had, for once, woken up on time as well.

“He’s here then?” She was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“So it seems. Angelica, run us through the procedure one more time, please.”  He said, while helping Amy with the locks on her body armor.

“Alright. You each have a connection to a secure channel that will help us communicate without Lang’s knowing. We’re using the NATO alphabet, just in case he figures out how to hack the frequency. At this point I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know there are only three of us. Ianto’s Alpha, Amy’s Bravo and I’m Charlie.”

Their redhead was mouthing the codes as Angelica called them out.

“If you require immediate assistance, call through mayday. If you’re being held hostage, the codeword’s ‘peachy’. Assume that I can see you throughout the facility, the Agency has nano-camera’s placed in every building. The botanic domes are locked to make sure we don’t lose him in the foliage. The same applies to the control room and the armory. If all goes well, I’ll be chattering through the comms nonstop, if not, I’ll send you a beep every eight minutes. If there’s a ten minute radio-silence, consider me down. In that case, don’t pull any heroics; if Lang’s in here, he’s got the entire place in his back pocket. Just meet up at the back-up bunker in sector 8, entrance password is ‘ice-cream’.” 

It was a lot to keep track off, but they’d had two days to memorize the whole riddle.

“Now, I can predict which path Lang’s going to try and take, but he’ll probably know several ways to get here. A regular Time Agent knows four or five different routes to get to the control room on average.”

“How many routes are there?” Ianto asked.

“522.”

“And how many do you know?”

“522.” She may have sounded a bit smug there, but the Welshman didn’t dwell on the subject.

“Right. Amy, three rules regarding our ‘friend’ out there. One, don’t trust anything he says. Two, keep him in front of you at all times and three, don’t let him kiss you.”

“Yeah, like I was planning to. I’ve half a mind to shoot him on sight as it is.”

“That’s my girl.”

Lang was crawling around their sleeping quarters now. Angelica doubted her teammates would appreciate that guy sniffing through their stuff, so she casually turned the heating down. With their body armor in place and their guns at hand, it was time to send her friends off.

“Opening the door whenever you’re ready.” 

“Thank you Angie, I’ll take the right side of the compound, Amy, you take the left.” 

“That means you’ll run into him first, Ianto.”

“Good.” 

She unlocked the doors and watched their backs as they turned to leave. When her friends were outside and the locks back in place, Angelica turned to the camera’s. 

Her teammates were in the hallway, looking at each other before the Welshman called the beginning of the hunt.

“Let’s get this sorted, then.”

He turned right, but just before he could fully go, Amy grabbed his wrist. 

“Hey, be careful.”

Ianto grabbed her wrist in return, looked at her and nodded. That’s when they both set off in different directions.

* * *

 

_Sleeping quarters._

Well, this was just rubbish wasn’t it?

He’d expected them to be in bed, after all, it was half past two in the morning. Who in their right mind was up at this hour?

_And who in their right mind kept the bedrooms this bloody cold?_

Must be used to primitive, dysfunctional heating.

Perhaps the kitchen then.

* * *

 

_Control room._

Ianto was getting closer and closer to Lang, while Amy was still dutifully patrolling the edges of her territory. 

Their adversary was heading towards the kitchen now. Unaware that something was amiss.

“Change of plans Alpha, take the next left, we’re cutting him off.”

“Affirmative.”

“Bravo, you’re doing great, but move a little to the south, that way you’ll have him if he heads towards you.”

“Okidoki.”

She locked the kitchen-corridor that led to the control-room, one less direction for Lang to go to, and turned up the heating a couple of notches, just for the hell of it.

* * *

 

_Kitchen._

Someone must’ve shot the heating during that attack, John was sure of it. The closer he got to the kitchen, the hotter things got. By now, he was sweating like a bitch in heat with still no sign of Eye-candy and his friends.

_Now if I were a great big Welsh ape, where would I hide?_

“Hart!” 

He’d managed to draw his guns before the guy shot him, that was the good news. The bad however, was that Torchwood apparently had no intention of stopping for something as small as two pistols.

This time, John wasted no time on chatter. Five rounds from each gun to make sure that his enemy would go down nice and easy.

Except he didn’t. 

The lumbering gorilla didn’t even seem fazed by the shots. He just kept heading towards John, while for all intents and purposes his liver, lungs and bowels should’ve been bleeding out in the hallway.

_Oh bollocks, body armor._

At least he could still aim for the head. Torchwood had obviously come to the same conclusion, because John could literally feel the heat of a shot pass by his ear not a second later.

 His body made an emergency judgment call to give up on killing the man and run like his life depended on it.

_It most likely does, anyway._

* * *

 

_Kitchen._

Ianto watched for a second as the coward turned tail and ran, before initiating pursuit. Years of Torchwood training and weevil hunting had prepared him for this kind of thing, but Hart was very quick.

It took the Time Agent three turns to shake Ianto off and after that, it was like he had disappeared into the woodworks.

“Charlie, help me out here.”

“Alpha, this is Charlie, I’m luring him right back to you. Take that next left. Bravo, be aware, he might be heading into your territory next.”

“Understood.”

Within seconds he could hear Hart cussing from somewhere. Whatever Angelica was doing, it was working.

* * *

_Control room._

 

Closing three blast-doors had sent Lang into a right hissy fit. She even heard a couple of colorful slangs specifically for her while he was banging away on the doors.

_Figured out we set a trap, did you?_

But just because the guy knew what he’d ran into, didn’t mean he was going to get out of it. Right now, both Amy and Ianto were heading straight towards her ex-colleague. Some part of her felt sorry for Lang, between the sheer hate both her teammates held towards him and the mess he landed himself in, the man didn’t stand a chance.

The bigger part however, figured that Amy could use an advantage in the field.

 “Bravo, I need you to hold position in the next room.”

 

A nice, electromagnetic-rich room where Angelica had plenty of variables to play around with.

* * *

_Unknown Hallway._

_Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, BITCH!_         
   
She'd played him. Scratch that, they'd all played him. How had they known he'd be back so soon? They should've assumed that John had gone back into the time stream, shouldn't have expected him back. He even took out the alarm.              
   
Did Vex know about his broken VM? Did she break it for him? Was she scanning for artron anomalies all the time?        
   
Never mind hunting down Torchwood, he needed to reach the controls first.  John couldn’t kill his enemies if the Agency kept acting like a haunted mansion.  
He couldn’t keep running either, not with all his weapons on board. As if to prove a point, his katana decided to go get stuck between his feet again.

_Stupid fucking…_

He hoisted up his belt, looked back, and continued onwards.

* * *

_Engine room 45-2._

 

Amy looked around the room, and decided it wasn’t a real engine room. Those had big machines and grease and wires hanging around them. Even the TARDIS had all that and she was way more advanced than this place.

But no, even the bloody engine rooms were aesthetically designed here.  Another shade of hospital white with several broad, short boxes in the middle. The only real difference was the lack of holoscreens. Where the rest of the Agency had slapped those on every corner, here, instructions were painted on the walls.

She didn’t get a lot of time to wonder why, because Angie contacted her again.

“Bravo, he’s heading your way, I repeat, he’s heading your way!”

“Copy that.”

Amy barely had time to take out her gun before Hart came storming in through the opposite door.

“Well, well. What have we here? ”

_Jesus, does he think he’s starring in some kind of bad action flick or what?_

“It’s a no-go Johhny-boy, you might want to turn around again.”

“How’s the nose? No permanent damage? I’d hate to ruin such a lovely view.” Sure, he made it sound casual, but the effect was slightly dampened by the heavy breathing and the red blotches on his face.

“All good. Now back off, I’m a better shot than Angelica.”

“Darling, there are possums out there that shoot better than Angelica, it’s really not much of an accomplishment.”

“hmm, must suck then. Getting beaten by her.”

“Wouldn’t know, it’s never happened to me.” 

“Doesn’t look like that from where I’m standing.”

“Yep. Well, let’s make sure you never stand anywhere again then.” The Agent smiled and fired a volley across the room.

He took her by surprise again, Amy couldn’t even duck away in time.

Curiously, the shots never reached their target. They were suspended in mid-air, like little glowing stars. Her first thought was:

_Sweet, I just grew me some superpowers._

Followed by a:

_Thank you, Angie._

* * *

_Control room._

 

Those electromagnetic fields had captured the high velocity energy like a charm. 

“I got your back, baby girl. I got your back.”  The whisper, as well, as the smile had appeared on Angelica’s face unconsciously.

She turned the comms back on and instructed Amy to fire as soon as she gave the signal. At the same time, she redirected Ianto to patrol Lang’s intended route.

* * *

  _Engine room 45-2._
    
    
      
    

“Son of a bitch!”

He’d missed. Again.

And now he was being fired at. Again.

The only difference was that this time, he didn’t get off scot-free. One of the rounds had grazed his hip. It was scourged, it hurt like hell and his belt was dangling half past his crotch.

Part of him wanted to risk it all and go head-to-head with Red, but if Vex was still on the other side of those engines, he’d never get any of his shots through. 

_Running now._

And bollocks if he wasn’t tripping over half his weapons, what with them being on the same belt. So far, so good, the girl wasn’t catching up to him yet. She would though. Oh, she definitely would if he didn’t drop half his means for offense on the floor right now.

_Of all the days to forget my arse-gun._

Not all was lost: he could still carry his guns by hand, while the flash grenades and knives would fit in his pockets. That only left the bloody sword.

_And good riddance, it‘s not like I ever did anything useful with the damn thing, anyway._

* * *

 

_Hallway 45-2_

She waited for Angelica’s signal to start the chase, not wanting to risk further injury by getting too close to mister maniac out there.

When the “Go.” finally came, Hart was nowhere in sight.

“Charlie, I’ve lost visual here.”

“Copy that Bravo, he’s off the radar for now, engaging heat signatures.”

Amy wandered down the hallway, hoping to catch a sign of the rogue’s presence until…

_Well hello there, gorgeous! Did you get left behind by the bad man?_

A beautiful, shiny katana, right there on the floor. Just like the ones from those Japanese movies she and Rory had watched as children (and re-enacted, and drawn, and then revisited with Doctor- and Amy-puppets). Except those never had a snakeskin scabbard, but who was she to judge? 

_Can’t just leave you lying around, wouldn’t want to give Hart a weapons advantage, now would we?  
_

Pleased with this new development, Amy went back to patrolling her perimeter.

* * *

 

_Control room_

_Ohhh Lang, come out, come out wherever you are…_

The heat scans were running at full speed, so far though, nothing had shown up. Angelica checked the camera’s once more to make sure their guy hadn’t wandered by but again, no such luck. 

No disabled cams.

No heat-signatures.

None of the tripwires activated. 

She knew Lang, had had plenty of time to study him back at the academy. There was something in her memories of him that could be used, there just had to be.

_Raging drunk, imminent hothead, known climber, compulsive liar, great shooter, borderline kleptomaniac, frequent drug-user, semi-engineer, impulsive buyer, experienced torturer, addiction sensitive personality, classic movie fan._

_Hang on…_

“Interface, scan for movement in the ventilation shafts.” Angelica asked, not quite believing that any Time Agent would go scurrying around in there, not with all the other options available.

“Movement detected in vent 405.” Classic burglar movie stunt. Can’t get out? Use the vents. The Agency’s vents however, didn’t particularly lead to anyplace useful. He could end up in one of the other hallways, or at the oxygen pumps, since the greenhouses were closed down for now. There was no direct connection to any of the exits or the control room and the rest was monitored by her.

She had to hand it to him though, crawling in a place designed to dispose of excess heat would make him invisible on temperature-ranged scans. Despite the obvious discomfort. 

The vents were like a maze up there, in about 5 minutes Lang would be thoroughly lost, combine it with some of the most complicated hallways in the building and he’d never know his directions.

“Interface, activate turrets 401A and 401B.” That should make him drop back on the grid. “Start a GPS scrambling signal.” And that should make sure he wouldn’t have a clue on his position.  

* * *

_Hallway 38-9_

“Charlie, where is he?”

 “Take the next two left and walk until you reach the security guns.”

Whatever happened to a simple weevil chase? Where the prey was stupid and the streets didn’t change every 10 minutes. Ianto had never credited Hart with much intelligence, since the man had tried to cash in on a scorned lover after killing her but damn it, this was getting complicated.

_Breathe Jones, calm yourself, the last time you rushed ahead of things, you ended up dead on a marble floor._

He had turned the last corner and was just in time to see both turrets on each of the hallway spring to life. Fully expecting the machines to shoot him, he ducked behind a crevice in the wall.

“Shit, Charlie, what the hell are you-”

“Patience, Alpha, you’re fine.”

And indeed, the guns were pointed towards the ceiling, neatly cutting a hole and depositing a red blur on the floor.

Ianto didn’t wait for permission to chase and went directly after his target, who was still struggling with his jacket.

The jacket that, he realized a little too late, was a storage place for about half a dozen of grenades, which were now rolling across the floor towards him.

_Fuck._

* * *

_Hallway 38-3_

 

John didn’t turn to watch the result of his bang. He didn’t feel like facing those turrets again, no matter how much fun it was to see Torchwood helplessly crawling around the floor.

_How’s that for tunnel vision, handsome?  
_

Alright, so maybe he’d just lost a lot of his provisions and maybe he’d been forced to use another medpack. One of theirs was crippled now and he was getting the hang of this game. Vex was ridiculously predictable when it came to producing results, Plan A failed? Send out plan B as fast as you can and lucky for him, Red wasn’t nearly as silent as Welsh.

Sure enough, he heard footsteps in the next room. Vex would be betraying his position to goon number 2 right now, so unless he wanted to lose the advantage, it was time to act quick.

Just before the girl could run smackbang into him, he grabbed her by the neck, like he did before and used his other hand to disable her VM.

“Hello sweetheart, fancy running into you here.” He growled.

She struggled for a moment, but John wouldn’t give her the same kind of advantage she’d had earlier. Heck, he even put his gun between her eyes, for good measure.

“Come now, I can’t be all that bad.”

“Yeah hello, gun to the face.” Red bit out.

“You don’t really care about that. I know your type, you’re just like Torchwood’s lady friend back on earth. Impulsive, adventurous, you like men like me. Dangerous men. Bet you’ve even got a boring boy-toy waiting for you back home.” Her eyes shifted downwards. 

_That’s right honey, you admire the goodies._

There was one thing these kittens always, always went for…

Mystery.

“Oh, but princess, I could show you so many things.” He leaned in closer and purred in her ear. “All the wonders of the universe, we could travel the stars together. Just you and me.”Sometime during his speech, she’d stopped resisting, falling for his spell completely.

_Go for the kill.  
_

John leaned in closer, ready to put his lips on hers.

…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. That is, if you ever want to use your fun bits again.” Red smiled at him and John felt something poking at his crotch. 

“What the-” There was a sword aimed right where he didn’t want it. 

A katana to be precise.

A katana with a snakeskin scabbard to even more precise.

_Traitor.  
_

“Soo,” Red again. “You’ve got a gun pointed between my eyes and I’ve got a sword pointed between your legs. How d’you propose we fix this?”

“I could still show you the stars. Forget these losers, I’ll show you the best the universe has to offer.” He was doing all he could to keep a tremor out of his voice.

“You know, I had a Time Lord tell me that once. He was much more enticing. Better-looking too.”

_A what? How am I going to top that?_

_“_ I don’t suppose you own a TARDIS, now do you? _”_

John tried to come up with a decent answer. Anything. Riches, drugs, slaves. Anything. Except he had a hard time thinking with his balls on the line. Add legendary ancient time-traveling aliens to the mix, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do but stutter.

“So? No Pandorica? No imminent threat to the universe? Really, I’ll even settle for saving an underground civilization.”

* * *

_Hallway 38-9_

 

 “Alpha! Wake up, Alpha!” Someone sounded worried.

_Who’s Alpha?_

Oh right. That was him. Ianto blinked twice and tried to shake himself back into consciousness.   

“Alpha damn it, he’s got Bravo!”

_Bravo…._

_Crap, Amy!_

“Angie, I mean Charlie, This is Alpha, where do you have them?”

“Thank the stars, you’re up! They’re in the next room to your left. I can tell that he’s got a gun on her, but not much else.  Be careful!” He scrambled up, stumbled a bit and continued on down his path.  
The spots were still dancing behind his eyes. Lucky, really. It could’ve just as easily been regular grenades, rather than harmless flashbangs.

The closer he got to the others, the louder the voices in distance got. “Undying love then? my ‘boy-toy’, as you so nicely put it, waited two millennia for me to return to him.” Amy. Happily chattering away. Just that fact calmed him down significantly. As long as mrs. Pond could rattle off like that, she was alive and well.

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out.  
_

“Wait for it.” Angelica’s voice crackled at his side “He’s looking around right now. Give it a second…”

_Will away the concussion._

_Focus._

“He’s distracted. Go now.” Angelica directed.

Ianto slowly turned the corner.

Amy kept talking.

He was proud of her; she didn’t even look at him while he sidled up to the pair. John Hart was standing awkwardly still. When he moved a little to the right, he finally saw why.

_Nice one, Pond. Nice one._

The rogue still hadn’t realized who was coming up behind him. Ianto’s smell could’ve betrayed him, but between the alcohol, the ventilation shafts and the grenade-smoke, neither one of them was very distinct from the other.

_Only a few more inches.  
_

And just like that, the gun was pushed away from Amy and on the floor, his own weapon appeared on Hart’s temple while the redhead still held her sword at the ready.

“Let go of her neck.”

For a tense second, Ianto was afraid that the man would try another one of his tricks but apparently even Hart recognized a hopeless situation. He released Amy and put up his hand to signal defeat.

"Grab his manipulator." Now free from her restaints Amy shot forward and began fiddling with the Agent's wriststrap.

"Angelica, what’s the quickest way to the cellblock?"

“Take the next right, then the second left and then another two rights. I'm sending Amy a map as we speak."

“Good. Keep all security measures trained on Hart. If he makes any sudden moves, fire them. I'm not risking another escape."

 “Got it."

Ianto frisked the man another two times, during which his captive was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, before dragging him off to a nicely isolated cell.

* * *

_Control room_

Angelica watched as her friends walked Lang to the brig with abated breath. It wasn't until she locked the doors on his new living arrangement that she dared to exhale.

Sighing deeply, the Time Agent sat back on her chair and called through one last message:

“Alright team Weird, mission accomplished. I'm unlocking the rest of the compound, meet you in the kitchen."


	14. How much further do I have to go?

* * *

_Los Angeles, 2011_

So, the damn government had another beef with him. Well, this time, Jack decided, they’d get their way. Completely. If those guys wanted a war, they could have it. Thanks to them, he didn’t have a family, a lover and a home left to lose anyway. Gwen had already toddled back to Wales to investigate what was happening to her father. Although, the word ‘investigation’ was probably directly replaceable with the word ‘destroy’ in this case. Not that it mattered, in fact, having her out of the way and wrecking a bit of state property on the other side of the ocean was a win-win situation for Jack. No Gwen meant no interruptions and no interruptions meant more time to figure out the temporal distortion.

_And I’ll be damned if I feel sorry about an attack on the people who let me walk into Thames house unprepared._

To make the evening even more perfect, Matheson had gone off to do ‘grocery shopping’ three hours ago.   

_He’d make a fine undercover agent, what with those master deceptions._

That left the apartment nice and empty. So, Jack had gathered up all his data, took it to one of the bedrooms, and spread it out on the bed. He’d been sifting through Phicorp’s entire command structure and picked out the ones who were going to cash in big on the immortality-scam.

There were three names on the list, two of which he’d already crossed out on grounds of other unfortunate events that could’ve been prevented. One was going through a messy divorce and the other had lost a daughter in a car crash not two weeks ago.

_I bet he’d probably give anything to change what happened._

That only left Stuart Owens. Who sounded more like a lackey than anything else. After hacking into his agenda, his daily businesses and his current workload, it became painfully clear that this man was not leading a multinational. Someone else was playing puppeteer. The only thing Jack had to do was pull the strings and see what came crashing down.

Reading through the last of his preparations wasn’t progressing as fast as he’d like: the letters began dancing across the paper and his eyelids were starting to feel a bit heavy. He hadn’t even started on building that global scanning-routine for his vortex manipulator.

_“Don’t you reckon it’s about time you came to bed?”  His hair is tousled, the old tracking pants are hanging half past his hips and the sweater looks like it’s put on in a sleep-drunken hurry._

_“It’s fine, not like I can sleep more than two hours a night anyway-”  Jack looks up from the work lying across Ianto’s tiny kitchen table. “-You, on the other hand, are up way past your bed time.” That earns him a glare. Nonetheless, the Welshman stops by the table, puts an arm around Jack’s shoulder and kisses his temple._

“ _Stop acting like you’re the only one who has trouble sleeping._ ” _As nice as it is to have an armful of Ianto, for the man’s own sake, Jack would rather see him resting through the night.  
_

_“Bad dreams again?”_

_“Hmmmhmm.”_

_“Want to tell me about them?”_

_“The usual. Cybermen, Daleks, I think there might’ve even been a space-pig this time. So, what are you working on?-” Ianto bends down to read the papers on the table, but before he can reach them, Jack grabs his chance and snags a kiss. After a minute or so, his lover pulls back and raises his eyebrow. “-Go on then, what do we have here?”_

_“It’s emh, left over paperwork from the Pharm. I…I didn’t get it done what with Owen and all that.”_

_Ianto sighs, squeezes Jack’s shoulder and stares blankly ahead._

_“I’ll go make the-”_

“Coffee?” A tiny voice from the doorway shook him from his reverie. Esther of course, standing there, shifting her eyes back and forth.  Jack tried to remind himself that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t have known what he’d thinking about.

“Ahh, no thanks, I seem to have lost my taste for it.”

“Oh, okay. So…what are you working on?” He was definitely in no mood to explain it to the girl. As sweet as she was.

“You know, I’d love to tell you but it’s kinda-”

_None of your damn business._

_Way above your pay-grade._

“Right. Need-to-know basis, got it. I won’t get curious anymore. Getting dunked into a fountain once was more than enough for me.” She finished for him.

_That’ll work too._

“It’s really just more research on the camps.”

Esther moved forward into the room, hesitantly trying not to look Jack in the eyes. “Please don’t lie to me.”

Well, that was certainly surprising: a CIA-agent who actually recognized false statements.

“I know you’re conducting your own investigation-”

_Uh oh._

“-and that’s fine, I won’t tell Gwen or Rex. You don’t have to tell me, just…just, If you need any help, I’m right in the next room. It’s not much, I know, but maybe it’s something.”

He’d seen it a thousand times, in Tosh and Ianto, that willingness to prove themselves. Torchwood thrived off it, ate it alive and demanded everything from people like that. Both his colleagues had given their lives to that willingness. Jack would be damned if he let another good person go down the drain for that.

“Esther. What are you doing here?”

“I figured you might like some coffee?”

“No, I meant here as in Torchwood, the CIA and all that. You’re a clever girl. Is this really what you want to do with your life?”

“I…I just want to help people.-” Good. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her yet. “-When I was seventeen, I had this friend you know, and he was a cop. He was doing great, but then one day, he got a call about an aggressive junkie. So, he went out there to stop him. Turns out the man was a heavily armed drugs-dealer. If someone had looked him up, if someone had just taken the time to get the information, I wouldn’t have had to sit at his funeral.”

“I’m sorry.-” Everyone had a tragedy that drove them to Torchwood. “-What did you want to become before he died?”

“Oh, I always thought about studying linguistics.” The smile on her face told Jack enough. She still wanted that. It would only take a little nudge, a tiny push in the right direction.

“There are plenty of people you can help in that field too, you know. Would your friend really want you to just throw away your dreams for him?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Esther, when this whole mess is over and done, promise me you’ll look into doing what love. Take it from someone who got pushed into a job as well.”

“I guess I could give it a go…” He never thought he’d feel like this again, helping someone, doing the right thing. It was a great feeling, even if it meant that he’d have to let go of Esther before getting to know her better.

“Now, I really need to get on with this.”

“Sure.” She was already turning to the door, when Jack decided that maybe there was one thing she could in fact help him with.

“Hey, Esther. Do we have tea around here?” It wasn’t coffee, it definitely wasn’t Ianto’s coffee but maybe it’d keep him awake just a little while longer.

“Green or Earl Grey?”

* * *

  _Fairford military base, 2011._

 

Step one of bluffing his way into the military ranks involved putting the others on a red herring, just so they wouldn’t suspect him of being a fraud. So, using his very fake ID and hiding his very real nerves, Rory waltzed back to the storage facility, replaced his avionic with another one of its kind and remembered to shut down the internal alarm first this time.

He then approached an unguarded piece of fence and casually threw the technology over it. After mentally preparing himself for the eventuality that he might just go to court for this, he put on his loudest voice and yelled:

“I think I found something, sir!”

Sure enough, his ‘commanding officer’ came running and Rory had the opportunity to explain that the perpetrator must’ve ditched the goods and ran off heading east or something like that.

“Damn it! we’ll never find our burglar on time now!” The man offered another bit of colourful language and kicked the fence.

“Damn.” Rory agreed, shaking his head.

“Well, good job…West? Wait, that name sounds familiar-”

_Uh oh.  
_

“- You wouldn’t happen to have any family living near Manchester now would you?”

“Not that I’m aware of, sir.” He mentally sighed in relief and followed the officer down the path.

“Too bad, I guess. Now, go make the last preparations for Cowbridge.”

Rory answered with a resounding “Yes sir.” Even if he wasn’t sure what those preparations were supposed to involve. In the end, it was just easier to retreat to the roof where he’d been hiding out in the first place. The camp was settling down again, what with their thief believed to be long gone and most tasks finished for the night.

As he lay there, gazing at the stars, Rory slowly drifted off into the familiar rhythm of his plans for the future.

_The machine will amplify the neurotransmitters in my brain to the extent that every one of my memories will be readily accessible. That should enable every speck of information I have on the girl. All I need is a name, a face, anything really. Then, I can run that information through the national database or the global one and if that doesn’t work, I can still go looking for her by simply traveling around...  
_

He must’ve fallen asleep, because the next time Rory opened his eyes, there was a shy bit of sunlight peeking over the horizon.  After he’d languidly stretched out, _sleeping on a rooftop: not the best support for your back,_ it was time to prepare for the day.

Breakfast was a quiet occasion, hiding in the back of the mess hall and hoping that no-one noticed him. He spotted Maria after a few minutes, looking from soldier to soldier, either still afraid of getting caught or looking for him. When she finally saw him, the woman smiled and winked.  Rory took that as a sign that all the equipment had managed to find their way out of the facility and were now en route to his little basement.

_Everything is set._

The only thing holding him back now was his own curiosity. Why was everyone so damn skittish? What were the politicians hiding? The answer had to lie in the secret government facility. The very secret government facility that was probably guarded by a lot of heavily armed trigger-happy professionals.

Sometimes, Rory really loved his life.

As an engineer, it was apparently his job to start loading up the more ‘delicate’ goods: several cases with medical equipment, glass-fibre cables and curiously, quite a lot of explosives.

“Oi, do we really need all of this?” Another soldier, seemingly on the same page as he was.

“Yep. Things go south, we’ve got orders to evacuate and blow the whole place to kingdom to come.” The man on his right answered, to which the first responded with a rather incredulous look. “What?! Are they breeding aliens in there or something?” to which a third retorted “Why, Jenkins? You looking for your mum, then?” Jenkins couldn’t appreciate the joke and threw in a “Leave my mother out of this, bitch.” Which of course meant the conversation followed that line of thought for another good ten minutes until the officer showed up and told them all to can it and get on with the job.

As he was carrying the last boxes dutifully to the truck, the joking soldiers slapped him on the shoulders as a way of thanks. Rory watched their backs as they rushed off to pack their personal possessions, pushing and roughing each other up on the way.

_Can’t be older than me, barely even adults really._

Because his mind and eyes were still on the rowdy guys, he didn’t see the driver until they ran smack-bang into each other.

“Oh Christ-”

“Shit. Sorry, Sorry.” Rory apologized as electric plugs went rolling all across the parking lot. The man, early thirties and quite burly, didn’t look angry though.

“Bollocks, so sorry ‘bout that. ‘ere let me help you with that.”  He started picking up the fallen plugs while Rory was trying to dig up one from underneath the truck.

“You really don’t have to apologize; I should’ve watched where I was going.” The sound of his voice was probably a bit muffled coming out from under the truck, but hunched over in the mud, trying to reach a little white piece of plastic that had managed to find the exact middle point of the car, Rory couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Funny, you’re the first guy here who doesn’t treat me like I’m a big fat lump o’ uselessness.”

“Take it you’re not military then?”

His new Welsh friend (the thick accent was a dead giveaway) went quiet for a while and when Rory came up for air, the man seemed startled to see him.

“Uh…no, not so much. P-private contractor, you see.”

_What kind of government hires private contractors to drive their trucks?_

Something was off. The man was fumbling with his keys and tapping his foot on the floor.

_Is this the clue I’ve been waiting for?_

If the guy was in fact a shady business partner, or in any way connected to Whitehall, Rory could use him. If not, well, he could hardly hand in a spy when he wasn’t a registered soldier himself.  Right now, the best option was to just go along with whatever play this guy was performing. 

“Ah, right. Well, Roger West, engineer-” he stuck out his hand “-Nice to meet you.” Put up an innocent smile, be nice, because maybe this could lead to the source of the problem.

“Yes, umh, Rhys Williams, a pleasure.”

“So, How’d you end up here Mr Williams?”

_Let’s see what we can find here._

“My wife. This…this whole bloody thing was her idea.”

“Is she a driver as well?” Rory tried to sound casual.

“No! Bloody hell, no. If only, maybe then she’d have time to help raise her little girl.”

This thing would get a lot more complicated if there were kids into play. He couldn’t very well betray or harm someone who had to go home and take care of a baby.

“A daughter, then. How old is she?” Rhys’ eyes lit up at the mention of his kid.

“She’s almost a year old now…Wait, let me show you. A gorgeous little thing, that one.” True to every parental cliché out there, the man whipped out a picture of his offspring. The baby was nothing special, as far as Rory could tell, she was just another drooling, giggling tiny human he’d seen on so many occasions. But you didn’t tell a new parent that.

“Yep, she’s definitely a sweetheart.”

“Look at it…As beautiful as her mother-” He was waving his hands around pointing at the baby’s eyes and nose. “- and you’d think she’d be a handful at this age, but not Anwen. No sir, quiet as a church mouse. Sleeps easy, hardly ever fusses. Hell, her mum’s more trouble than she is.”

Rhys smiled, but his eyes betrayed a certain tiredness.

_Marriage problems, probably._

Before he could go into it an officer up front called out that they were ready to get going. Rory jumped at the announcement, seeing as how he still had no clue in which truck he was supposed to hide himself.

_Then again…  
_

“Say, Mr Williams, do you have someone to ride shotgun with you?”

“No, I haven’t actually…and call me Rhys, please.”

“Do you mind if I…” He turned towards the door, and then back to the driver.

“Not at all. Hop in.”  The man said while walking to the other side of his truck. When they were both seated and the engine was running Rory risked taking a look at his new friend. Rhys smiled at him and with that, they were off.

* * *

  _Los Angeles, 2011_

 

Jack was in a good mood.

Gwen was still off doing whatever it was she did, Esther was looking through job descriptions and Rex was yelling at him from the other side of the door.

“Son of a bitch! Harkness! Turn the damn volume down! I’m trying to work here!” There was more banging on the door, before the endless stream of cussing continued.

They were in the living room and someone (him, that is, no point in denying)had rigged the radio system to only play big band music at an insanely loud volume. The idea had occurred to him this morning, when he and Esther had been discussing motivations for work. Rex had still been in bed and as a result, Jack was free to tinker about as he pleased.

When he ran the first successful test, Esther had simply shrugged, pulled out a set of headphones and had begun quietly (or loudly, it didn’t matter, he couldn’t hear it) tapping away on her laptop. 

Rex had not been quite so agreeable with the captain’s new management and after three unsuccessful attempts to destroy the radio Jack had wrestled him out of the room and locked the door behind him.

So, while Jack had been waltzing around the room and programming his vortex manipulator as he went, the CIA-agent had been screaming until his face turned blue.

_If I add another x-quadrant to the fifth dimension then there’d be another opening in the second part of the formula._

“I’m sorry Rex, what was that?! I can’t quite hear you over the music!” He yelled back while smirking at Esther, who was giggling in the corner.

She wasn’t bothered by the strange holographic images his VM had conjured up throughout the room and while they weren’t technically necessary, the pictures certainly sped along the process.  Plus, it really added to the atmosphere.

The plan was to make a vector that could identify the cause of the Miracle. Despite being very small, the VM could, with the necessary adjustments, scan the morphic field of every individual on earth.

Once he’d done that, he could start filtering out the regular patterns and look for abnormalities that explained the mass-immortality that was going around.  
Of course, he’d need a 51st century supercomputer to come up with a signature that defined the Miracle and even if he’d manage to find one of those, he’d still be miles away from actually fixing the problem. Despite all that, Jack remained optimistic. There were plenty of options in the galaxy to explore.

_Who knows, maybe I’ll even give John a call._

The sad part was that he’d be forced to make a few sacrifices on the way. If he’d crank up the juice on his scanner, then he really wouldn’t be able to use some of the other functions. Obviously, time travel was out of the question, one way or the other _Thank you, Doctor_ but in truth, Jack was rather attached to the holographic messaging. It always paid to see the twitch in your conversational partner’s eye when their deal went south. In fact, he wouldn’t even be able to send voice clips through, making it, in essence less useful than an 18 th century telephone.  
 _Except for the whole, scan the world bit, of course._

“Jack!” That was Esther, yelling as loudly as she could.  He turned down the volume, while she pressed a cell phone in his hands.

“Gwen just sent a message, she says she’s going to blow up the camp to emh...show the world that ‘Torchwood’s not going to take it up…the…ass’?” she read the last part off the little screen and shot him a questioning look.

No request, no looking for permission, not even an indication that she wanted to talk about this. Jack wasn’t even sure what the point of sending a message was if she was going to do it anyway. 

Oh well, He wasn’t going to let Gwen’s temperamental bouts ruin his good day.

“We’ll set up some form of communication later, I’ve got more important things to do right now.”

* * *

_Cowbridge camp, 2011._

 

It was getting dark by the time their troops arrived. He and Rhys had managed to make small talk during the entire trip and while he now knew the man’s favourite dish, bands, colour and even baby food, Rory was none the wiser when it came to the whole worldwide conspiracy thing.

While the trucks were being unloaded, Rory took the time to sneak out and investigate the surroundings. To say it was disheartening was an understatement, at least.  The healthcare was shabby at best and people here were either perfectly fine or halfway to cold dead bodies anyway.

There was no rhyme or reason in who got placed where. No extra measures for those who couldn’t take care of themselves or something to keep the healthy individuals busy. The entire thing practically screamed way station. If this was really a long-term holding area, even one set up in a hurry, there’d be more of everything. More equipment, more security measures. Soldiers couldn’t keep people busy this long.

 _T_ _hose camps. They’re not there for the average Joe. They’re made for enemies of the state. You stir up trouble for them bureaucrats, they’ll go an’ collect your sick family members or friends_

Martin’s words made sense now. Hostages, guarded by soldiers who knew nothing and were kept in check by paranoid managers. If the intended targets didn’t stop being difficult, the government would threaten them into submission.

_Scared people, scaring other scared people into being more scared of them. Everyone’s just being a puppet to their own fear._

Just like Fairford, the men and women here seemed so busy fighting off an invisible enemy that Rory, who was hiding in plain sight, could easily slip past every defence and security measure they’d put up.

The offices were locked, but his military access card got him past every bump in the road. The files he found, if you could even call them that, were a mess. Mission reports, half finished, written like the journal of a mad scientist.

 

_12th February 2006_

_We’ve been going over the test results over and over again. There doesn’t seem to be any coherent connection to the anomalies in the atmosphere, they just started appearing a few months ago._

_So far, we’ve been unable to find anyone whose biochemistry isn’t keeping up with the slow changes observed._

_The higher ups are unsatisfied with the results, they’re ordering more tests, new tests, like the devil himself is on their heels._

_24 th August 2009_

_I fear what they’ll do to me, once they get this new batch of results. As much as we’ve tried, the animals aren’t adapting with us._

_There have been suggestions that we should perhaps round up Torchwood’s captain, since his bloodcells are relatively irresponsive to the changes in the air and related to ours._

_He’s untouchable, but perhaps they’re desperate enough to try it._

_12th march 2011_

_Finally, a breakthrough, we seem to have located a live subject who was an active part of what is now known as the zero-group. The first individuals to be infected with the changes.  
The bodies of the only other known members were destroyed during the extraction._

_I’m putting my money on subject GC04174300, It’s all we’ve got left now anyway._

This was probably relevant information to someone, but to Rory, it might as well have been gibberish. Two things however, stood out. For one, the Miracle, as it was now, hadn’t been a spontaneous occurrence. Apparently, things had been going to shit for the past few years and only now did the symptoms start showing. Secondly, even the folks up the command chain were afraid.

A request for more cell-structures revealed that said higher ups were none other than presidents and prime ministers of several countries and the head of U.N.I.T.  himself.

These were the people supposedly to blame for all the unrest, the start of the oppression as Maria would call it.

_So, what had them running for the hills?_

Faint noises in the hall distracted him. Rory ducked behind the file cabinets and watched a doctor and a nurse pass by.

A nurse carrying a gun. 

_What the…_

It seemed Mrs. nurse was plotting something. A hostile take-over perhaps? Not surprising, considering that this entire place was a powder keg of moral boundaries and panicky humans.     

He’d just have to trust the soldiers to, for once, do their job right. Booting up the computer, he began looking for something, anything he could use. There had to be more than just the ramblings of a few scared men. These types of facilities always had cameras and always taped whatever was going on.

_Nothing._

Despite everything he’d learned about machines, quantum physics and engineering, hacking was one sport he’d never mastered. He could call Martin, give it a few days, have him pull a computer expert from wherever and extract the files.

Who knows, perhaps Maria’s resistance would fund the endeavour.

His hands were already pressing familiar numbers on his phone, when he saw the no reception sign on his screen.                                                                                                              

Grumbling, he made his way through the dark, away from the rest of the camp. Finally, after half a bloody mile his stupid cell found a signal. In retrospect, Rory would admit that he had heard the roar of an engine and a woman’s shout in the night, but was far too busy planning his next move to really listen to what it meant.

Whatever he had intended to do, or however he had wanted to swing it, all of it fell by the wayside when an enormous light followed by a thunderous noise and a flash of heat hit him in the back.

“Jesus Christ!”

Where there had once been a camp, there was now nothing but rubble and flames. Rory could hear the screams of the undying victims even all the way out there.

He turned his head just in time to see the terrorist who did it ride off on a bike. By all rights, he should’ve done the same. Going back in there would mean risk being implicated with whoever had done this, there would be fire and smoke and explosions and god knows how many death traps waiting for him.

But there would also be people.

Innocent people and guilty people, it really didn’t matter. Because people had husbands, wives, children, brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers.   

And Rory just couldn’t let that slide.

It took him less than a second to spring into action and run back to the camp, back into the fray.

_After all, there’s no point in playing the superspy, unless you’re going to help people._


	15. Everything that it takes.

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

“Put that down Amy, you don’t know where it’s been.”

After thirty minutes of watching John cuss and stalk around his new living arrangements via the video feed, Ianto was finally starting to pay attention to his environments again.

It was just such a shame that he chose Amy’s new toy as a focus.

“What?! No! I like it, grown attached to it even. You know, since it saved my life and all that.” She held the sword close to her chest, so neither of her teammates would be able to take it away.

“You can’t keep a weapon just ‘cause you’re emotional about it.”

“Well, you still keep your Torchwood gun with you, even though there are way more efficient weapons right there in the armoury.”

Angelica came swooping in, probably taking a break from cleaning up whatever mess Hart had made in his attempt to rob the Agency again.

“Girl’s got a point.”

“Thank you.” Amy curtseyed to show her gratitude while Ianto just spluttered a bit in the background.

“Fine, but if you start naming it, I swear to God, I will throw it in one of the reactor cores.”

“I think I’ll call it Bloody Mary.” The risk of having Mary molten into vapour was well worth the look on the Ianto’s face when he realized that this was going to be far too arduous to push.

“Just…let Angie sterilize it first, make sure it isn’t covered in…syphilis or something-” Their Time Agent was already putting on latex gloves to make sure she wouldn’t need to touch the offending object.

Amy whooped and kissed his cheek before following Angelica down the hall.

“-And you better damn well learn how to use it! I won’t have you accidently cutting off limbs because of that thing!” Ianto was still calling after her when she caught up with the other woman.

“I guess I’ll have to start digging up those Kendo tutorials again.” There was a smile on Angie’s face, making Amy even giddier about the whole thing.

“So Angie, how are you feeling about all this, what with avenging your people?”

The Time Agent took a moment to think about that.

“Good, actually. I’m…not going to get my friends back, obviously. Also, Lang wasn’t the only guy in that attack by far, but at least we’ve got something to work with. Find out what they did and why.”

“And after that?”

“Rebuild the Agency, I guess.” Angelica shrugged, as if it was just another chore, like washing the dishes.

“All by yourself?!”

“I..uuhh…Guess. ´S not like I´ve got a lot of colleagues left right?

“What about me! And Ianto! I bet we could totally do this together.”

Angelica just looked at her like she had grown a second head.

“You want to become an Agent…”

“No! Well, actually yes, but more as in, I could do a bit of freelancing. Heck, Ianto’s practically running this gig already, it’d be good.”

“And you’re basing all of this on those five seconds of action we used against John?-”

Amy nodded.

“-Well, kicking an experienced Time Agent’s ass is not something many people can, not even with the tech support I delivered. You traveled with a Time Lord, I suppose hardly anyone gets that kind of hands-on experience with time-travel, containing universal threats and making contact with new species. I just don’t think Ianto’ll agree, the man does have a life you know, contrary to what he keeps telling us.”

“Think about it, okay?”

“Sure.”                                                                                                                 

As if summoned by his name, the aforementioned Torchwood operative entered with a tray of coffee. Amy welcomed her cup and sat on one of the tables while Angelica was already halfway under a large contraption, rewiring it or something.  
“What happens now? I mean, we’ve placed the probe. We’ve caught the bad guy and we found out that Ianto’s even weirder than we previously imagined.”

“Oi!” The Welshman interrupted.

“We wait until the machine categorizes the energy on earth, we squeeze as much info out of Lang as we can, figure out that double whammy time distortion that’s been happening and then there’s the issue of the two of you not dying in an artron storm.”

“Wait…two?”

“Yeah, two. In case you hadn’t noticed, your hand was caught by the vortex as well and it’s just as unscathed as his is.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t realized it at the time, going straight into action after their little field trip, but it was true, Amy hadn’t had any trouble with her hand afterwards. Which begged the question:

_What do Ianto and I have in common?_

“Do you think you’re invulnerable to it too?” She asked Angie and began playing around with some of the random gizmo’s on the table, if only to soothe her nerves a bit.

“It’s crossed my mind, but no. For one, I didn’t get stranded here and for two, my energy signatures are completely different from yours.” The muffled voice answered from beneath the computer.

“Maybe we’re both d-”  
That got Angie’s attention, she rolled back out from under the machine and pointed her welder at him.

“Ianto Jones, if the next word out of your mouth is “dead”, I promise you, I will scream.”

“-dashingly attractive?”  he deadpanned. Suitably calmed, the Time Agent disappeared again, she didn’t however, stop talking to them.

“Seriously, you need to stop being so rigid about this whole dying thing, if I got a credit every time an Agent came back from biting the dust, I’d be able to buy a flying villa by now. Honestly, there must be like a thousand different possibilities.”

“Time travel!” Amy yelled, because hey, she was well versed in this particular subject.

“There’s one. How about uploading yourself into a computer?”

“Being brought back as an Auton.”

“Cloning yourself.”

“Rebooting the universe.”

“Becoming a fixed point in time and space?” Finally, Ianto was getting into the spirit of things. Amy cheered him on, while Angelica happily continued the list.

“Body switch before you die.”

“Resurrection glove.”

“Alternate universe you with memory upgrades.”

“How about…Blowing up a rift in time and space?” All playfulness abruptly fled from the conversation.

“That what happened to you?” Angelica asked, looking at him.

Ianto nodded and then proceeded to tell Angie what he’d told her that drunken night after target practice.

“Maybe you absorbed the explosion when the bomb went off, releasing all the energy the rift contained. Theoretically speaking, that energy could’ve been placed in a vessel.”

“That’s…that’s not really possible, is it?” Ianto had turned white at the suggestion.

“Isn’t it? Someone with a body would’ve been shattered in a million pieces, certainly, but you didn’t have that, now did you? No. You, Mister Jones, were more fluid than that. ”

“What do you mean?” This was turning a bit too vague for Amy’s liking.

“Think of it as the difference between a cannonball hitting a wall and a lake. The wall would be blown apart. The lake would only part for a moment, before taking the ball into itself. Ianto caught the explosion, but instead of his body trying to stop the physical blow, his spirit, his energy, his morphic field, or whatever was left of him, only moved around the rift particles and encased them afterwards.”

“Jesus…-” The Welshman appeared to be having a panic attack of a sorts. “-Are you saying that I’m basically a walking rift?”

“I’ve heard of people becoming their job, but you’ve really overdone it, mate.” Angie said while Ianto took a moment to sit down and panic.

“So, how did he become, well, solid again?” Amy asked.

“In the moment after the impact Ianto would’ve had direct access to the energy he sucked in. He could’ve done anything he wanted at that point.”

“Like the Bad Wolf…and I only chose to repair myself.-” He was holding his head in his hands. “-Wait! Does this mean I’m immortal?!”

Angelica was quick to answer that. “No. I’ve found no indication of anything like that. Your cellular regeneration is the same as anyone else’s.

“My wounds aren’t healing any faster-” Amy was rubbing his back while Ianto’s breathing slowly went back down to normal. “-so, now what?”

“Now nothing, the rift energy has settled. As far as I can tell, you’re still pretty much human. Only difference is that you’re resistant to artron energy, distortions and the like. Also, you’ll probably create a new temporal rift when you die but those show up pretty randomly anyway, so no biggie.”

“Angelica. This. Is. Definitely. A. Biggie.” He ground out.

“Hang on. That still doesn’t explain why I can’t get hurt; I don’t remember having swallowed a rift lately.”

“The cracks.-” Ianto muttered “-Amy! The crack. You said you grew up right next to a crack in time and space. Something like that would’ve bled plenty of artron particles, wouldn’t it!?” He turned to Angie.

“Yeah sure, put something like that next to a growing kid and she’s bound to take in a lot of the overflow.”  
Why hadn’t the Doctor told her any of this? Surely, he would’ve known. Instead, he’d said that she was of sturdier stuff because she’d been time-traveling with him. Had he thought that she wouldn’t have understood? That she would’ve abused her ‘abilities’ in some way? Or rather, had he forgotten it in the mumbo-jumbo box of frogs that was his head? For her own sake _and that of the Doctor’s_ she assumed it was the latter.                                                                                                                        

“I think we’ve found our common factor.” Angelica was resting her head on her hands. “Now we just need to figure out how that relates to you two ending up here. you-” she pointed at Ianto “-could’ve transported yourself, but you,-” back to Amy “-you were literally zapped out of your own kitchen.”

That’s where the conversation sort of fell short.

Amy tried to figure out how it would’ve worked. Ianto had explained the concept of a rift, but those only snatched you from your time to another time, ending up at a place outside of time was virtually impossible, even for the TARDIS.

Eventually though, she noticed that Ianto was nodding off. It was kind of cute, but mostly logical, what with the day he’d had. She gently prodded his cheek.

“hmmmm, what?”

“Time to go to bed, Jonesy. We need you fresh and fruity in the morning.”

He sighed and started to get up. When Amy noticed he was about to make a wrong turn, she walked up to him and pushed, again gently, at his back to get him to his own room.

“Night, Ianto.”

“Yeah, g’night.” It was at times like this that she realized Ianto wasn’t that much older than she was, and that he too needed help sometimes.

“Sleep well.” She sighed before going back to her own room.

* * *

 

Ianto didn’t particularly feel like doing interrogations, he never did, but they’d practically hit a dead end on the theoretical analysis.

_And by ‘theoretical analysis’, I mean ‘insane shitstorm to throw my life completely out of balance’._

_Again._

Now, blowing up the rift. That hadn’t worked out exactly as planned. It did explain why he hadn’t joined Seriath and the rest of the ghosts but still left him to wonder what exactly the bitch had done to him. Was he really Ianto? Or just some weird collaboration of temporal phenomena that thought it was Ianto?

_Does it really matter?_

What mattered was that apparently he’d had all the power of the universe in his hands and still forgot to make Jack mortal.  When the captain had told him the story of the Bad Wolf he couldn’t help but wonder, if it had been him, would he have done things different?

If he’d gotten the chance to look in the heart of the TARDIS, would he have saved Jack’s life without making him immortal?

_Guess not._

Or had he? He hadn’t seen the man since he’d taken in the rift. Maybe he had done it, just without knowing.

_If that’s the case, I sure hope Jack doesn’t find it out by jumping on a bullet._

Ianto had tried to recall the events of the explosion, or implosion, to be precise. He remembered saying goodbye to Jack, he remembered waiting for the bomb to go off. There was Seriath, screaming at him in the back of his head and there had been one consistent thought going through his mind over and over again.

_Please God, let no-one get hurt._

That didn’t exactly bode well for his mortality theory. After that, it was just drifting about in space and then ending up here. 

_Speaking of here._

All three of them were watching John Hart on the large holoscreen near the cellblock. Ianto should have been looking for weak spots, clues that could help them get information out of the lunatic but so far, nothing was coming.

_How on earth do you manipulate a man who is a compulsive liar, as mad as a bag of cats, without honour, without empathy and trained for interrogation as well?_

When he looked over to Angie, he noticed the tense lines on her face and realized that she had already decided what the answer to their problem should be.

_I can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind._

Amy on the other hand, was gloating and cooing at their captor. Still unaware of the tension in the room. 

“Awww. Look at you! Not so tough now, huh. Little baby sleeping at the table. Can’t beat team Weird, this is our territory now, bitch!-”

He was surprised she hadn’t resorted to singing ‘nya nya nya’ yet.

“-So! What have my two geniuses cooked up today? How will we handle this piggy? Shall I start rolling out the rack?”

For a second, Amy was giggling at her own suggestion. That is, until she noticed the looks on their faces. When Angie shot him a look that spelled out ‘you explain’ he tried, but by then, the redhead had already drawn conclusions.

“You…you were seriously thinking about torturing him.-”

 Anger Ianto could’ve dealt with, he’d put up with Owen’s and Gwen’s more often than not. The crushed, disappointed look on her face was a lot harder to process. It made him feel all sorts of guilty for having to play the ruthless agent again.

“- Have you ever done something like that before?”

“That’s not the point, we need-”

“Oh my God, you have, haven’t you!?”

Well, there really was no point in denying it now.

“Yes, when I had no other choice.”

“You don’t have to be here for it.” Angelica tried, unsuccessfully.

“Thank you Angelica, That makes me feel loads better!” Now she was screaming, perhaps he should just let her rave for a bit and then wait until she’d forget about it.

_It always worked on Gwen._

“I don’t care what you think you’ve had to do up until now to get information. It’s wrong, you’re my friend, I care about you and that’s why we’re not doing this and if…if it ever gets to the point where we have no time left and no other options but that, we’ll do it, but it’ll be the three of us. Do. You. Hear. Me?-” She was slapping his chest now.

 “-You don’t get to leave me out of this, or…or ‘protect’ me from stuff like this. I am not some silly little princess in a tower that can’t be sullied. We are a team and I am a part of it, damn it!”

He grabbed her hands and silenced her with a look.

“Alright, alright. Point made. What do you suggest we do then?”

The redhead went still for a moment, then, she looked up at him and tentatively spilled out her idea.

“Well…Doesn’t the Agency keep records on all their employees, maybe there’s something in the database that we can use, right? Something verbal.” She looked at Angelica for support.

“She’s right, we do. Which you would’ve known, if you had checked Boeshane’s record by now.”

“Not the time, Angie.”

Even Amy was smiling faintly again.

“Look, just let me try this for a bit, okay? I can do this. Angie can help. If it doesn’t work out, we can always do…something else. Meanwhile, you can look at Jack’s file.”

It wouldn’t hurt to give the girl a chance. Any alternative was more than welcome. It was just less fortunate that everyone with a double X-chromosome apparently vowed to get him to read the damn file.

_Damn the vodka for making me promise that I would._

 “Alright, fine.”

So, that’s how he ended up seated in the control room, looking up the records for a Time Agent born on the Boeshane Peninsula, while the ladies were digging through Agency policy texts and Hart’s file. As promised, there was only one result. With a flutter in his heart Ianto tapped the screen to open it.

The first paragraph already revealed more than Ianto was comfortable knowing.

_Name: Jax Harkin_

Alright, so it wasn't Jack, nor Harkness, but damned if it wasn't close. All these years he'd been agonizing over a difference of maybe three or five letters. It's no wonder Jack - _or should I start calling him Jax now? -_ had chosen the captain's name. It had been practically his own to begin with.

The second revealed his date and place of birth. Ianto had already known the place and the year was most likely irrelevant after all the time-travel Jack had endured. It might be interesting to note that he was born in June if you believed in horoscopes or celebrated birthdays.

Ianto didn't.

In the column on the left there were profile pictures scrolling past. It was both strange and amusing to see several younger versions of the ageless man. First, a sullen sixteen year old boy with hair that was much curlier and lighter than he ever imagined Jack having. Then, a smirking twenty-one year old whose hair was quite frankly an alarming shade of blue-purple-turquoise ( reminding him of a seventeen year old Ianto who had pierced ears and a mohawk). Next, a proud looking twenty-five who resembled his Jack to a tee, sans a few laugh lines and last, a haggard thirty-year old.

There were other little trivia's listed on the page as well. Height, weight, blood type (O, he had known that one), allergies ( Ianto had no idea what a Banta fish was, but he'd keep an eye out for it from now on), language skills and more tidbits.

The rest of the file consisted of dozens of mission reports. If Ianto had thought to learn something new from those, he was sorely mistaken. Almost every one of the reports followed Jack's stories to the letter. All the crazy impossible things that he'd scarcely believed were true.

He’d known pretty much everything about Jack and never realized it.

On the bottom of the last page, there was a list of references to misdemeanors. A lot of them sounded familiar and pretty harmless but there was one, a big one judging by the big red marks around it, that drew Ianto's attention.

_Illegal warmongering on Villengard, Hades in 4241._

In the background Angelica and Amy were still digging through files.

“Angie, do you have a minute?”

“Yeah sure, Lang’s file is just an endless litany of psychopath, psychopath, psychopath anyway. Damn the corrupt Agents who allowed him to be trained.”

"Odd." Angelica murmured when she read about the crime. "Why would Harkin want to interfere there?"

"You know the place?" Ianto answered, after shaking himself out of the reverie.

"Yeah, it's my home. Place is practically a breeding ground for Time Agents, thanks to a rather hyperactive arms market. Which in turn is a result of one of the bloodiest, nastiest wars the universe has ever known."

"And you were born there?"

"Don't worry, I lived there about seven hundred years after it ended."

"What would Jack be doing there?"

"I don't know, it was highly illegal to muck around in. You know, the Agency didn't want their main source of recruits to be rewritten."

He pondered about it for a few moments, but couldn’t for his life imagine why Jack would want to provoke even more war.

_It’s not exactly the kind of thing you ask, either._

Amy had been silently reading in the corner and Ianto had nearly forgotten about her, being so entranced by Jack’s history. When she spoke up, it startled him away from what appeared to be the last mysterious part of his lover’s past.

“Hey! What about this! ‘Every offence is judged individually by a tribunal of grandmasters…yade yade yade...fitting would be lifelong incarceration, or physical retribution. Should the action be judged of excessive violence, severe damage to the timeline or the loss of more than one-hundred lives the offended will be submitted to the highest punishment: the immediate repurposing of data in their frontal lobe.’ That sounds serious…and painless. Would Lang be afraid of that?”

“Heck yeah, he would. Forced amnesia is an Agent’s worst fear and insult all mixed up together. If you can't keep your memories straight, you become a liability, forgetting enemies and friends alike. Not just dangerous for the Agency, but also for yourself. ”

Ianto had been Torchwood long enough to know exactly where this was going.

"How would that work?" Before Angie could go into a lengthy explanation, he cut her off.

"Retcon, it's a pill.  You give it to someone, and they'll forget whatever you want them to. Isn't that right?" The Agent nodded. 

"Does it hurt?"

"No, you just fall asleep. When you wake up, the memories are gone."

"Hart would be afraid of it, right? Of this retcon stuff? More than he would be of pain." And now Ianto understood why Amy was so nervous.

"You want us to threaten Hart with memory loss?"

"Well yes, but just threaten okay? No actual wiping."

Angelica nodded again. "That might work."

"You do realize that this isn't any less despicable than torture right? Playing with someone's mind is a very big breach of privacy." He felt compelled to point that out, what with his extensive history on breaching civilian privacy.

"Yes, I do. But it doesn't require the torturer to inflict pain or enjoy it. Besides, I don't propose we do it, I propose we scare him with it, if what Angie says is true, then he might just react to that."

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Ianto had to threaten someone with retcon, nor was he unfamiliar with being on the other side of it.

"I'll do it."

"I want to be there, it was my idea after all."

"He thinks I'm mentally unhinged, I might be able to add some extra pressure." Angelica remarked.

It wasn’t a solid plan, but it was a better plan that torturing their way out of things. He nodded towards the girls and hoped to God it wouldn’t turn into one big circus before they got what they needed.

* * *

 

"Good morning!" The Welshman slapped his tablet on the table and shocked the hell out of a sleeping Lang. Angelica chuckled and pulled out her most wicked smirk. If she was to play nuts, she might as well go for first class insane.

"Jeez, that's rude, you know."

"Apologies, but what's a bit of rudeness among sworn enemies."

She admired this side of Ianto, not many people would choose to stay the paragon of politeness.

"Sworn enemies? We're sworn enemies now, eye-candy?"

"Oh we already were, you just don't remember it."

Lang looked suspicious for a moment, before continuing with his usual bravado.

"So? Is this the part where you torture me into confessing whatever it is you want?"

"That was the plan-"

"Oh goodie!"

"-except my friend over here -" he looked to Amy "-isn't a big fan of it. So we've come up with something else."

Very calmly, Ianto placed a retcon pill on the table.

"You decided to tend to my hangover? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but..."

"In a way, yes. Your hangover and every memory of the past five years."

Angelica had hoped that at least that would illicit some kind of reaction but the indignant smile was still plastered on Lang’s face.

“I’d like to see you try, gorgeous.”

This was exactly what they’d feared, that the man would try and test their resolve on using the drug.

“What makes you think I haven’t already?”

A dangerous bluff, now Ianto would have to con the con artist into believing he’d already outsmarted him. Which wouldn’t be easy to pull on a man whose ego was about the size of a small planet.

“You? Really? I imagine it would take a lot more than a little rookie to get me to slip up.”

“Tell me then, Diedrich, how did I know your alias?”

“Pfff, you looked it up, you swapped messages with Boe, a little birdie told you. I don’t know, there are millions of possibilities that don’t involve you retconning me.”

Whatever Ianto was planning, it wasn’t working out.

_Time to change tactics._

“Listen asshole, you destroyed my home and killed everyone I cared about. He might not be able to, but don’t think that I won’t do it now!” She sneered at him like her life depended on it. To no avail.

“Angelica, please.”

Ianto held up his hand to signal her retreat. For a moment, everything went silent as both men continued stared down each other from across the table.

And then…

Slowly but certainly Langs face turned an uncomfortable shade of white.

“In the elevator, you tricked me and told me I was ‘going down’. After tha-”

“How the fuck did you do that!-” The rogue screeched, jumped halfway across the room and pointed his finger at the Welshman. “- What the… I remember you! You were there! With Jax. With Gray, all of it! But you weren’t…How? How!?”

If Ianto was at all surprised by Lang’s outburst, he didn’t show it. Instead, the man was still waiting calmly until the other was done raving. Angelica snuck a look at Amy and found her own confused stare mirrored on the girl’s face.

“I told you.” He waved at the pill on the table.

“No! That’s impossible, even for retcon! You…You’re just Ianto Jones, another one of Jax’ little Earth grubs!”

“Am I? Then how did I get here? How does an Earth grub changes memories like that? How does he get access to one of the most powerful organizations in the universe?”

It was a brilliant spectacle, to watch the Time Agent squirm as he tried to uncover the con his opponent was playing.

“Well. Well, t-then why didn’t I see you at the academy or…or at central?”

Experience learned that things got really spectacular when Ianto started smirking the way he did now.

“Simple. I’m black ops.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Why? Because you’ve never heard about it? Tsk, you’re not that important, Diedrich. Who do imagine gets rid of the bad eggs? Or keeps valuable assets like Jax Harkin in check? You? Her?-” he pointed at Angelica.

“-Nope. We do. So, mister Lang, believe me when I say that right now, you’re starting to look an awful lot like a bad egg.”

_C’mon, break you asshole, just break already!_

The rogue was still shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, no, it’s not -”

“Very well. Agent Vex, Would you be so kind to assist our friend here with the retcon. Make sure you remove a couple of important enemies, that should solve all our problems in one go.”

Ianto moved towards the exit while she pulled out her scary homicidal grin again and just when Amy was moving towards her for an intervention, their bad egg decided to crack.

“Stop. Stop! I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

_Jackpot!_

The Torchwood operative turned very briefly and added “What makes you think you still have knowledge we want?”

“S-she wants it!” when he indicated her, Angie shook her head.

“Nah, I just want revenge.” She made another grab for his neck while he desperately struggled for words.

“Yes, You do! You want names…and you want to know why your side lost. You definitely want know that!”

Ianto turned back, waved her off and sat back in his chair once more.

“Go on.”

“Well, there was Ixitrix, Mulberry, Javelin an-”

“Not the names, we’ll note those later. The reason, mister Lang.”

“It was the parasite.”

_Oh hell no._

Before either man could react, Angelica stormed ahead again and practically force fed the pill to Lang.

“Thank you for your bullshit, have a great time not remembering us!”

“Angie! Angelica!”

“I swear, it’s not bull. It’s all true. That thing was really in there. We blew up the left core-wall, it was in there. When it got out, it fed on all the Agents you had crawling around here. That’s how we won.”

Lang rattled on like that for another minute or so, constantly repeating the same story in different words.

“Thank you, Diedrich. You’ll be retained here until further notice. Ladies, if you would?” He gestured to the door. 

The moment they were outside of Lang’s hearings distance, an onslaught of questions was fired away from every corner. 

“What the hell, Angie?!”

“How’d you do the memory trick?”

“What’s that parasite he talked about?”

“He didn’t swallow the retcon, did he?”

“Why’d you pull me off?”

“Where’s the left core-wall?”

Eventually, Ianto was the one to turn around and head for the kitchen. Before she knew what she was doing Angelica’s feet were already following him. Amy was doing the same.

Not one to waste time on formalities, Angelica jumped straight to the questioning.

“How did you know he was going to remember you?”

“I didn’t, I just hoped that our temporal hiccup could help.  To which, If John really remembers things differently, we can add another timeline, by the way. Amy’s, mine and his.”

“Well, if it’s true what Lang says, nothing short of a universal rewrite will fix our problem.”

“Yes, which brings us to the next point. Care to explain your little outburst now?”

“Ah. Yeah, that. That ‘parasite’ he referred to is more commonly known as the ‘temporal parasite’. It’s a local myth, a horror story to scare the new recruits.”

“So, what’s the story then? Since neither me nor Amy are particularly known here.”

_It’s dark, Angelica and the other recruits are being rounded up by some of the older ones. They should be in bed. It would be beneficial to everyone if they could focus in the morning, but apparently this is a bonding experience, specifically made for those who have only been here a week. She can recognize Bex on her left. His dark skin hardly stands out in the night, but she’s more than used to working with her other senses._

_“This is stupid.” He amends. Angelica can’t do anything but agree. The other students seem to be enjoying it though, except for those two hillbillies in the back, who seem mildly impressed by whatever cheap sound effects the older recruits have set up._

_“Alright, little worms! Listen, and listen carefully! Because no matter what your instructors have told you about rules and regulations, or how things work around here, they have no doubt left out the most important part!-”_

_“Is he supposed wearing a cape?” she whispers and Bex snickers at the student who tries so hard to be threatening, while wearing a bedsheet around his shoulders._

_“-The part that might save your life one day! The great secret of the Time Agency that no-one will admit to!” The boy makes a deep bow and holds his ‘cape’ in front of his face._

_“The Temporal Paaraaasiitee.” He adds an evil laugh, no doubt purely for effect._

_They’ve walked all the way down to the oldest part of the Agency and are presumably staring at a ventilation duct._

_“A long time ago!”_

_“-in a galaxy far far away.” It’s one of the hillbillies; they’ve shaken off their initial fear and are now joining Bex and Angelica in mocking the whole spectacle. The other boy almost laughs out loud, but the first silences him with an elbow in the ribs. “Shhh, Max!” followed by a “What the hell Harkin?!” end the stage-whispers and brings their attention back to the story._

_“Before the Agency was the Agency. Before we could travel to through time! There were experiments. Evil experiments. One of these experiments would prove to be their greatest success and their most dangerous adversary! It was through him that we learned the art of traveling through the vortex, but the price was high. The man had become the monster, he could manipulate the great blue storm, but had to feed on the innocents to sustain himself! Our brave predecessors, these men and women from the Agency, vowed to stop the creature.”_

_Cue dramatic pause._

_“And stopped him they did, but kill him? No, they couldn’t! So, he was hidden, buried into deepest shaft of our Agency and left to starve! Oh our Agents tried so hard to keep the monster at bay, but they say that on dark nights, it still hunts for fresh blood! So beware little boys and girls, because it might come for you and eat your soul to escape from its timeless prison!”_

_A flash. A bang, a lot of smoke and a bad hologram of a…was that a Peruvian bat?...later every new recruit is either coughing their lungs out or trying to find their bearings in the dark._

_“What the…?!” The lights go on. “Colt! Selvan! We told you it was forbidden to use smoke grenades on them! Is it really that hard to just listen for once!” Mister cape suddenly looks very afraid himself as the source of the voice is revealed._

_The new grandmaster apparently isn’t a big fan of hazings._

_“Grandmaster Petl, it’s just a bit of…”_

_“Breaking the rules? Get these kids to bed, they’ve got a rough time ahead of them. We’ll discuss this later.”_

_As they’re shipped off to their rooms, Angelica vows to forget this whole fiasco as fast as she can._

“That’s pretty much all I know. Big scary monster made by the Agency eats the souls of new recruits. Tale as old as time, cheap horror to scare kids who are already tense.”

“And now Lang’s claiming this thing escaped.” Ianto still seemed to be serious about the whole thing.

“Which is impossible, because it doesn’t exist.”

“So how did the Agency develop time travel?”

“Records are…flimsy at best when it comes to the beginning years of the Agency. In fact, we’re not even sure where the chunk of planet we’re on originated from. We know when we shot ourselves out of time and that we developed the means to travel but it’s all just short sentences in history books.”

“It could be true, then? I’m not saying the literal story, but something like it.”

And then Amy decided to butt in as well.

“Most myths have a core of truth you know!”

“Really? That’s what we’re going on now? Myths and kid’s stories? There’s a universe falling apart right outside our window and you want to go on a fairytale hunt?”

“Do you have any other suggestions? Because I’m all ears.”

She didn’t. It was frustrating to admit, but the only thing they had on the attack was Lang’s confession. Aside from that if, and she seriously doubted it, something like the parasite existed, it would, theoretically, have the power to do a lot of damage to the timelines.

It would even explain what Ianto and Amy were doing here. If you wanted to trap someone, why not do so in your own prison cell.

Angelica usually loved solving puzzles, but right now, she wasn’t keen on putting the pieces in place.

“Fine. Let’s go, couldn’t hurt to look, right?”


	16. Scared but prepared.

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

“That’s a big hole.”  Was the first thing that came to Amy’s mind, and apparently out her mouth as well, as she was starting at the black abyss fitted neatly between the remnants of a white wall.

“Yes. Bigger than it ought to be.” Said Angelica, still not completely willing to admit that John Hart/Diedrich Lang had spoken the truth for once.

“What’s down there, then?”

“I have no idea. Records and maps state that this is simply solid concrete. Obviously, that isn’t the case. ”

“Do you think we’ll find the parasite?” 

“Nah. If it was here, it would’ve escaped once it got the chance. Wreck the universe and all that jazz.” Angelica smiled, but Amy wasn’t feeling very reassured.

“And you figured that it was the parasite who damaged the timeline after all? You seemed pretty resistant first.”

“I know. Everything else is just less logical.”

“How?”

“Well. Like I said before, there is no way any of the other temporal active races would’ve destroyed every timeline in existence. If a species creates the delicate art of changing time, then they would know not to smash it up after the first try. What our perpetrator is doing, is…childish almost. It’s causing more trouble than it can possibly solve, the only way to fix this is to undo the one doing all the damage, so now it’s making a huge target out of itself. Our criminal is not thinking, it’s not plotting or forging alliances, it’s just going on instinct.” 

“Like feeding a hunger.”

“Exactly. The parasite fits that MO. It’s just looking to feed itself, allegedly. In order to do so, it apparently had to screw up time. More than once. Which brings us to the next point: Obviously, it’s killed the entire Time Agency so it doesn’t have to worry about them coming after it, right?”

“Right.”

“You can easily fool or kill the species that don’t travel on a regular basis and leave those that don’t care alone. But then there’s this one guy who is almost always in the vortex. Always on the watch for wibbly-wobbly stuff.”

“The Doctor.”

“So it takes out the Doctor.”

“Which is why Ianto doesn’t remember the Doctor saving the children of Earth and why the TARDIS never exploded.”

“Right, because they didn’t exist anymore. That’s your timeline, let’s call it number one, erased. Though, that didn’t solve the entire problem now did it?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, think of it a robbing a precious artefact. You want to steal it from its pedestal, but there’s a guard at the front door and cameras in the room. Which do you handle first?”

“Oh, the guard!”

“Exactly. Then what do you do?” 

“You take out the cameras, but what does this have to do with us?” Amy wasn’t quite sure where this was going.

“Our parasite took out the guard first, but was still left with an observer. Someone who couldn’t do much, but who would still see the changes in the universe clearly, because she was filled with artron energy.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, you! it couldn’t kill you, because it wasn’t sure if that would eliminate the problem, but it could trap you. Put you away in the most secure place it knew.”

“Its own prison.”

“Bingo! Then along comes the second timeline. The one Ianto remembers.  I imagine that on first glance, the parasite would’ve accepted it, worked with it for a while until it ran into another issue. So, with the problem solving capabilities of a toddler, it destroyed another timeline. Creating…”

“Lang’s timeline.-”

“Ten points to the redhead!”

“-and because Ianto is like me, he had to be trapped too. Sooo...what kind of issue did it ran into?”

“I have no idea. We don’t know exactly what it has planned, so without another observer, we’re basically lost on that one.” 

_Another dead end, then_

Amy looked down the hole once again; it seemed ominous in a horror kind of way, to descent down into the unknown with nothing but a scanner, a flashlight and a gun. Obviously, she had done some seriously risky stuff with the Doctor (and the more she listened to Ianto and Angelica, the more she realized how dangerous exactly.) But knowingly and willingly walk into the lion’s den?  Amy was quite sure her Time Lord would’ve simply given the order to stay back and ‘don’t wander off’. The fact that her friends trusted her enough to let her do this spoke volumes.

Of course, discovering Lang’s fear and that speech played a big role in how both Ianto and Angelica behaved towards her now. The ideas they gave her were more aimed at getting her to argue, rather than trying to step around her.

“I still say we should just throw some nerve-gas down there. Make sure nothing attacks us.”

_Yep, definitely not stepping around me anymore._

“Tough, we democratically agreed it was too radical. I can still get those smoke grenades, if you’d like?”

“Amy, whatever’s down there has lived in total darkness and methane gasses for the past two-hundred years or so, smoke grenades aren’t going to cut it.”

“And the flash-grenades will draw too much attention; which leaves us with nothing but three silent guns, a sword and a couple of torches.”

“This is going to go great, isn’t it?” Angelica sighed.

“Oh, quit worrying and start gearing up. Come on! I’m halfway into my harness already.”

Amy had gotten rather adept with the Agency’s gear these last few weeks. Funny really, when Angie had told them about the hallway, she had expected that they would jump right into the adventure, Instead both Ianto and their Time Agent had started scouring the archives for any hint of a map or clues on what they would find down there.

_Not like we don’t have the time._

Now, fourteen days after its discovery, Ianto okayed the plan to uncover the mystery and always, the man with the plan, and most of their climbing gear, arrived exactly when they needed him.

“Are we ready ladies?”

_Ready…set…and good to go!_

* * *

 

 It was a nice feeling, Ianto decided, to once more be able to enter field with a plan and a well-trained team at his back.

Amy was instructed to a T, Angelica’s neuroses were packed away for the moment, they had guns, they had climbing gear. Hell, he even packed a few gasmasks, just in case.

_Shame on you if you fool me once…_

“I’ll go first-” Angelica offered. “- I’m good in the dark.”

“How so?”

“I… uhh, spend thirteen months being as blind a mole.”

_Wait, what?_

“Wha? How?” Amy aptly translated his thoughts. 

“Ianto, hold the rope, please.” Was the Agent’s only reply.

This obviously fell into one of those ‘Time Agents don’t talk about their past’ categories. Ianto had long since gotten used to Jack’s vague references. He had looked up her file but, like Jack’s, it only revealed service record and a bare minimum on her past. Before starting the descent though, Angie gave them one last clue on her history.

“Experimental treatments for my asexuality. One of them didn’t go as planned and left a bit of damage up here.” She tapped her skull, gave the signal for Ianto to start holding her and the cheerfully hopped into the abyss.

For about five minutes, everything went silent while Amy and him watched the pile of rope grow smaller and smaller. Then, an “Okay.” crackled through the radio and a very faint light shone up from the depth.  Next up was Amy, who had both his support and Angie’s down below. As expected, the girl made her descent in record time, leaving only him. He attached the rope to the pulley installed at the wall and hoped to God that nothing would go wrong.

His first impression descending was that the walls were smoother than he had imagined; no cavernous tunnel dug by a beast trying to escape, but rather a smooth pipeline that had always meant to be here. The light from the women’s torches revealed that this wasn’t the sterile white of the Agency’s hallways. It was some kind of glass, embossed with large octagonal shapes, still showing the bedrock behind it. He had to admit, it was a clever way to eliminate any illusion of freedom and simulate the bars of a prison.

_Whoever built this built it with the intention of making its captive suffer._

After what felt like an eternity, he touched down next to Amy and a slightly out of breath Angie. The floor was a metal roster, with the same octagonal glass underneath.

_Encased on all sides._

_“_ So, scanners indicate a wide network of tunnels. This place is a damn labyrinth in three dimensions. We can literally go in any direction.”

“Right. Sticking together it is. Anything peculiar?”

“Checking now. There’s…One large circular space up ahead and it has a party of artrons racing away.”

“Still safe for you?”

“Barely.”

“Lifesigns?”

“None so far, but I can’t see you or Amy either with that kind of disturbance.”

“Ready your weapons. We’re going to find out what’s hiding in there.”

While wandering down the hall, Ianto wished once again for more people to rely on. It was impossible to cover every angle with just the three of them and the tunnels were built in such a way that enemies could appear from every direction. 

All in all, it made Ianto terribly uncomfortable. Angie on the other hand was humming under her breath while following the scanner’s directions and every time they turned a corner, she would put a sticker with raised dots on the wall.

_Braille._

She was preparing for the eventuality that the lights would go out.

The closer they got to the open space, the more ravaged things started to look. First, Amy fell through a hole in the roster and onto the glass, then the entire walkway became a twisted mess of metal and after that, Ianto’s hand came in contact with a blubbery substance on the wall.

“Hang on, I think I found something.”

He wiped the mess off the glass while Amy took a sample of it to Angie.

“It’s…Well, it used to be human. I think. There are skin cells, bone marrow, blood residue, muscle tissue, everything really.”

“Are you saying Ianto has people jam on his sleeve?” Despite adapting to situations spectacularly, Amy went a little green at that.

He himself however, was more disturbed by what was behind the now clean glass. So, disturbed in fact, that the only words he could find were:

“Bloody Torchwood!”

There, engraved in the stone wall was a perfect replica of the Torchwood emblem that had been masoned into the hub.

“What the hell is that doing here!?” The Agent came hobbling down the hallway, took one look at the wall and furiously began waving her scanner back and forth.

“Is this…This can’t be genuine, right?” He was sure of it, this wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry, looks like it is. Carbon dating and minerals indicate it’s from the 49th century. That thing has been here since launch.”

_Jesus Christ._

“Was the Agency a part of Torchwood?” Amy asked Angelica.

“No, it was an initiative of several governments and independent firms to control time travel. Or at least, that’s what the history books say…said…Whatever.”

Every time Ianto thought he knew everything there was to know about that blasted organization, it turned around and bit him in the ass again. After two years of meticulously studying One’s history, the tower had come crashing down, revealing more secrets than he had ever dared to imagine. Then, just when he thought he had Jack and Torchwood Three figured out, a monster stepped through the rift and his boss turned out to be immortal. Now, thousands of years in the future and light-years away from home, the bitch still had it in her to surprise him. 

“Did you bring your tablet?-” He turned to Angelica, who gave it to him wordlessly.

“We are solving this now. I am so sick and tired of not knowing. Right, so who designed this place?”

“What? This? This wasn’t on any of the maps, remember.”

“I meant the Agency in general.”

“Oh, that was…Wen Greel.”

He typed in the name, which gave hundreds of results, almost every one of them blathering on about Greel’s ingenious methods and willingness to go the extra mile.

_Singlehandedly vowed to take his people to the next level…Never backed down from the dirty work…redefined time itself for most species in the universe…The shining paragon of humanity._

Then, finally, in the deepest, oldest memoires of the Agency, he found a résumé.

_Name: Wen Greel_

Most of it was useless. Personal information, how many languages the man had known and whatever other skills he possessed.

_Previous work experience:_

_4882 – 4887: CEO of FTL-engines Inc._

_4887 – 4892: Minister of defense, Europe_

_4892 – 4921: Head of Torchwood Institute, Earth._

“When was the Agency launched?”

“4922? If I recall correctly.” 

_Oh…motherfucking hell._

And there it was, another piece of the puzzle. Whatever had been hidden here, Parasite or not, it had been a part of his organization. Thus proving once again that every weird thing in the universe was somehow related to Torchwood.

“Read.”

Angelica and Amy weren’t much better at comprehending the news than he was.

“Wait. So…the head of your organization was the one who made it possible for her organization to help the predecessor of their own organization through your boyfriend, but that somehow got you stuck in a future version of your organization and now you’re trying to help Jack so the very place you’re trapped in can exist later on…I…I don’t think I even understand what I just said.”

“Well, it certainly explains why we were always encouraged to trust Torchwood.”

Both the women were now sitting down and staring at the emblem, Ianto promptly decided that this wasn’t a bad idea and sat between them.  Amy opened her mouth to speak several times, but never got much further than an “Oh” or a “But”. In the end, it was Angie who found her voice first.

“This is definitely shocking and all that, but it doesn’t really help us. I mean, we’re still trapped and the parasite isn’t.”

Perhaps that was true, but it certainly meant that the enemy would know him. Or at least, whatever was left of Torchwood’s methods after three thousand years of change.

_The ethos seems very much the same though._

All of Jack’s hard work to change the organization had been for nothing, if Angie’s stories about corruption and this prison were any indication.

“Let’s get moving.”

_Let’s see what more you’ve got for me._

* * *

 

 

Angelica followed Ianto down the hallway, marveling at yet another strange discovery these two people brought to her life. As if defying physics and the finding an ancient legend living under your feet wasn’t enough, now, they had connected her Agency to the notorious Torchwood.

_Funny, I haven’t been this invested in history since I chose to focus on engineering._

She was reminiscing about her final class on the subject when she felt something fly past her ear. 

“What the…”

“Something wrong?” Ianto held his torch in her direction, revealing that there was in fact, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I felt someone pass me by, but there’s nothing...”

Amy’s eyes went a little wider as she drew her sword.

“H-how can you be sure?” 

“It’s…I know what that feels like, when someone walks past you. There was even a scent, very faintly.” 

 Ianto never even questioned her, he just took out his gun and deadpanned  “Looks like we’re fighting ghosts today.”  This was business as usual for Torchwood.

Angelica sighed. She didn’t like doing fieldwork, exactly because of stuff like this. Too many variables. Her first instinct now was to just pack everything up, speculate on the problem some more and then throw a probe down the hole.

_Not Ianto. Nope, once he starts something, you’ll need a force of nature to get him to back off._

_“_ I felt that! I definitely felt that! _”_ The redhead shrieked and clasped the sword with both hands, dropping her torch in the process.

“Calm yourself. Panic’s not going to help anyone.” Ianto moved to pick up the thing but halted halfway down because there, in the faint light, was something on the floor.

_Human? Alien? Animal?_

A shivering being, curled up on the floor. The more she focused on it, the clearer its image became.

Shadowy appendices became fingers, an amorphous bulb a head and two protruding edges shoulders.

The smells were stronger, more horrible too.

Things moved very fast after that. The figure sat up, Amy jumped two feet in the air, Ianto aimed his weapon and then, it began yelling at them.

“I will kill every! Last! One of you!”

An animalistic howl was next, and then…

Nothing.

It had disappeared as fast as it appeared, three hollow thumps echoed far behind them before their Welshman sprung back into action.

“Angie, scanner!”

She was fidgeting with the device, trying to control the tremor in her hands.

_Damn, what is this?! I am never shaky!_

“Uh, high levels of artron, but we knew that. No…extra heat signatures, no gasses…wait!”

Her device was picking up on something odd. A kind of unknown radiation. The Agency had catalogued nearly every substance in the history of mankind, which made the whole thing even more eerie.  Just after she’d activated a relating comparison search, the same sensation crashed into her.

"Hang on guys, here he comes again!"     
   
All three of them lit their torches at every angle of the hallway. Which was useless, because a moment later, the figure was back where he'd started from.                     
   
Shivers, whimpers and-              
   
"I will kill! Every! Last! One of you!"           
   
A howl and exactly eight seconds later, three thumps in the darkness.                      
   
Gone again.                 
   
"Well...that's certainly interesting." Ianto said but she ssshh-ed him, closed her eyes and listened.      
   
Sensation.  
  _  
One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight…nine…ten.  
_  
"I will kill! Every! Last! One of you!"           
   
 _One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight._  
   
Thump, thump, thump.              
   
She counted through two more identical cycles before opening her eyes again.  
   
"He's repeating himself." Amy squeeked.                  
   
"Not just that, he's re-doing every step to the second. Every time he appears, it's perfectly synchronized with the last time."               
   
"Time loop?" The Welshman suggested at the same time as her scanner beeped.                    
   
"No.-" she read of her screen "-the radiation, it's related to quantum energy."  
   
As she filed away the signature for future references, Amy asked for an explanation and Ianto seemed perfectly capable of giving one.  
   
"Emotions, right? Our guy felt so strongly about something that he left behind a memory, but wouldn't we normally need a machine to see it?"  
   
"Yes and no, it's more than that, it makes us who we are, it ties together the fundamental particles that are responsible for our morphic field, which in turn defines our DNA. You're right though, it can't be observed by the naked eye."  
   
"But you mentioned it was different?"  

“Yes. It’s fluctuating, going in every direction. Before we walked down here it was barely present, now it’s everywhere.”

The tremor in her hand was steadily getting worse.

“So why can we see it?” Amy was slowly calming down.

“I don’t know, okay! It doesn’t make sense!” Her snarl sent the redhead right back into startled. Ianto just looked concerned.

“Calm down, please. Can you show me the scan’s readout?”

The screen showed several levels of quantum energy. The ones closest to their bodies were normal, unmoving particles clinging together. That’s what kept their DNA together. The next level was a little further away, occasionally rippled and shone brighter in Ianto and Amy’s case.

_Probably artron mixing with quantum._

The last layer had particles moving calmly in and out of the field. Her companions had bigger fields that nicely connected with each other and hers. As it should be, they were after all, conversing, stood nearby and felt compassionate towards their teammates. But there was another connection, one that didn’t return the energy it took. A clear stream from all three of them was leaking to the ghost on the floor, still screaming for murder.

“I think that’s it. There. The energy we’re giving towards that thing, it binds us to it. Could very well be the reason why we’re getting what he’s feeling.” Ianto pointed out.

“How very…parasitic.” Amy added.

“Yeah. That was exactly what I was thinking. Question is, are we looking at one of its victims, or the being itself?”

“There’s nothing we can do for him, is there?”

“No, he’s not really here, it’s just an…image of the past.”

While her teammates were still discussing the physics of a mirage, Angelica was about done with this place.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not stand here and watch that over and over again. We still need to find the cavern.” 

She didn’t wait for them to catch up to her, just marched on in the direction plotted out.  Which, obviously, was why she reached the room first.

“Isn’t there a bloody light switch in here somewhere?”

“I rather think they purposely avoided it, actually.-” Amy and Ianto bickered while climbing down whatever was left of the stairway “- if you want something to stay hidden, make sure it doesn’t show up on the electric bill.”

“Is that what you did? Back then?”

The two of them went quiet for a moment.

“Yes. I did.” He whispered.

“No electricity, huh? Then what do you reckon that is? Modern art?” Angelica pointed her torch at the very center of the room, illuminating a large pillar with wires, conductors and other crap haphazardly stuck onto it.

“I stand corrected.”

 Before either of her teammates could call her back, Angie was climbing up the monstrosity. Right to the middle, where the pillar had an open space.

_Quite large, too. You don’t build this for the average sized humanoid._

“Can you find anything?” Amy’s voice resonated from below.

“Glass…Or something similar, and lots of it too. Probably a null field generator at one point.”

She traced the sides of the wall, analyzed every bump and slot on it.

_Let’s see if this works._

“Amy, can you throw up your VM?”

She threw the gadget right into Angelica’s waiting hands, who proceeded to attach it to every output she could find. Then, programmed an automated jump set to go in thirty seconds and went down to her teammates.

“Put up your shield, I’m not sure what’s about to happen next.” She notified Ianto while taking Amy by the hand, and watched as the little device tried to hop through time.

The results were spectacular: every part of the room was suddenly basking in blue light, wires were transferring energy in a closed circuit back to the pillar and into the generators around the place.

Then, everything went dark again.

 “Fascinating! This stuff literally sucks out the artrons! I bet that manipulator got completely drained in the process.”

“Yes, thank you and why exactly couldn’t we use your VM for that little stunt?” The redhead huffed.

“Because I’m attached to mine.”

“Bitch.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it! I’ll even give it a nice red strap!” She called while going back up the machine again.

_If that’s even possible, poor thing has been totally deep-fried._

“So, why’d they built this?!” Ianto yelled.

“Like you said, they didn’t want to show up on the electro-grid. So, they used the only power source on hand: a time-traveling parasite. Imagine, every time it tried to jump, the systems would A. suck out all the energy for the trip and B. recharge the cage for his next attempt. When the parasite did nothing, it would’ve been held back by the glass and if it tried to go anywhere the systems would activate every null field generator here and stop the thing from refueling.”

“There’s more than one generator?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if those reinforcements in the hallways were wired with it.”

“That’s vicious.” Amy again.

“Terribly efficient is what it is!”

“Would it really kill you to be a little less giddy about this?” The redhead was shaking her head, while Angie happily puttered on with the system.

“Why did it stop working?” Ianto asked.

“Someone broke the circuit. Our hole in the wall: a literal energy sucker. When it tried to jump through time all gathered energy dispersed into the air there, shutting down the generators. After that, it was probably a matter of draining the Agents for quantum energy and then shorting out the entire system with one big burst.”

“Can we weaponize the draining mechanism?”

Amy smacked her friend on the arm and gave him a warning look.

“Don’t give me that. It might not be nice, but we’re trying to save the universe here, thank you very much.”

That would be tricky. This system was unique when it came to construction, she had no idea how the outlets were made, or of what. Even with a fully functioning unit, it would take time, let alone with one that was burned to a crisp.

“It would take months, if not years.”

“Fuck.-” Ianto sighed and combed his hands through his hair.“-and then we still wouldn’t have a way out of here, would we?”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Well, let’s just…get some of this stuff back to the lab. Might as well get started on it, if we’re going to be here for a little while longer.”

They headed back up top, but the atmosphere wasn’t pleasant. Both Ianto and Amy seemed defeated at the prospect of being trapped on the Agency for such a long time and Angelica wasn’t sure what she could say to lift their spirits.

_We’ll find a way guys, I promise._


	17. Stand and face the unknown.

* * *

_Cowbridge military base, 2011._

Rory ran, as fast as he could, through the debris and around the flames. It was a horror. He could hear the screams for help everywhere. Patients and guards alike were trying to help the injured. Doctors were doing their absolute best to piece together some of the more gruesome casualties.

_No-one can die, but everyone can feel the pain of it._

He reached his first patient and all sorts of strange instincts suddenly kicked in.

“Sir! Can you hear me sir?”

The man nodded and within a span of minutes Rory had diagnosed multiple rib fractures and a collapsed lung.

_Traumatic pneumorax, I’ll need something to act as a_ _tube thoracostomy._

A distant part of his brain marveled at what was happening. He didn’t understand half the words racing through his mind, but was apparently perfectly capable of performing some grizzly medical procedures. When the tube was firmly lodged in the guy’s chest Rory motioned a woman to stay with him and moved on.

_Burn victim, third degrees. Airway, check._ _Breathing, check. Circulatory state, check. Cover the wound._

Some nearby bandages would need to do the trick. He looked up into the eyes of a guy who had been assisting him with the victim and recognized one of rowdy soldiers from Fairford.

“Isn’t there something you can do for him? He’s my friend!”

“I’m sorry, no. Wait for the paramedics and make sure he keeps breathing.”

After three more patients, Rory ran into another familiar face. One of the doctors had recognized him as a professional and called him over to assist with the woman he’d seen when breaking into the locker-room.

“Keep her calm, if she slips into a coma now, there’ll be nothing left to save.”

Not that there was much to save anyway, one of the explosions had ripped half her lower body apart. She was screaming, which Rory took as a good sign; complete numbness would have been way worse.

“Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me okay? it’s going to be fine.”

“Jamie? W-what are you doing here?”

“Jamie huh? Why don’t you tell me about him then.”

For some minutes Rory listened to the broken murmurs before the woman,- _Laura, her name’s Laura_ – lost consciousness after all and was declared non-living. The doctor cursed, whispered that something like this shouldn’t have happened and went looking for other injured people.

 Rory couldn’t agree more.

While tending to a few heart-patients who had been held captive in the camp, a shout drew his attention.

“Rory!..Rory!”

There was only one person here who would know his real name.

_Maria._

She was sitting up against whatever was left of the west-wall and- _Dear mother of God_ ,- there was a gigantic piece of metal shrapnel lodged in and above her right eye.

“Jesus! Maria, what the hell happened?!”

“Explosion did. God, this is weird, I can practically feel my brain shutting itself down. Lost feeling in my left arm just now.”

“I am so sorry.”

“So am I. Damn it, we nearly had them.  I had all the evidence, right there. Ready to send it to Martin and then boom! Gone.”

“Maybe I can…I could get something to him.”

“No man, bits and bobs. We needed the camp itself to still exist.-”He couldn’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks.“-Listen, Rory, you need to go, now.”

“No. Nuh-uh, not going to happen, there are people here that need help!”

“Shhhh, listen.” There were sirens in the distance, someone was on their way.

“Those aren’t just ambulances and fire-trucks, Williams. There’s gonna be police and military and they’ll all want to know who you are and what you were doing here.”

“So, let them.”

“I can’t let you compromise Martin. He needs to continue his work. Please! I am begging you, go!”

He looked at her, and she managed to return the stare with her remaining eye.

“Find your girl, Rory, that’s a dying woman’s request.”

Despite everything he believed her, despite all the promises he made, Rory did as she asked and started to turn away.

“Oh, and….If you see my family, please tell them that I loved them, okay?”

He nodded one last time. Wiped some of the blood from her face and walked to the nearest car, decidedly not looking back, the files in his jacket pocket slightly stabbing at his chest.

 Once he sat behind the wheel, Rory had to force himself to drive away.

  _Come on. Go home. Just go home._

As if things were that simple. His feet were made of lead, his mind had been left somewhere in the camps. It was bizarre to drive down the freeway, where everything was still normal; passing other cars, streetlights and exits like he’d just gone shopping for an evening. About three miles out, the shock of it hit him like a brick. He pulled over to the nearest parking space, got out, promptly threw up and sat down to cry.

_Oh, God. Oh, God! What happened back there? How is this possible? Why would anyone…_

It was truly sheer dumb luck that none of the other people saw him. They might’ve tried to help, while all he wanted to do was breathe and listen to life making its way around him.

“Dude, have you seen this?!”

“What?”

“It’s flooding the entire internet man.”

“Well, what is it?”

“A movie, looks like some kind of terrorist attack.”

If Rory had been any less shaken up, he would’ve most likely described hearing that voice again as post-traumatic stress syndrome, but as it was, the man could only sit there and listen in horror as the entire explosion was revised on somebody’s fucking camera phone.

“It’s a hoax, or a commercial. No way that a real terrorist would pull a bad-guy monologue like that before blowing up shit.”

“Yeah, probably. Looks cool though.”

“Sure. Come on dude, the others are here.”

It didn’t reach Rory’s ears anymore. He didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted to go home, lock himself in the basement and fiddle on his machine some more.

In the end, it took him about four hours to reach the Angelo’s house, it was still dark outside, but apparently he woke Jeff’s mom anyway.

“Rory, what’s going on?! Where were you? Is that blood on your hands?”

He didn’t answer, didn’t even turn off the engine, just stormed down the stairs and locked the door behind him. As promised,  there were boxes spread throughout the entire room, on top of the largest one was an envelope with his last stolen part and the text 'you're welcome' written in Maria's handwriting.                 
   
He swallowed. Blinked away some more tears and started unpacking stuff.

 _Dying woman's request, right. Let's get on with this. If I rewire the aviator to fit what's left of the dvd-player, I'll be able to..._  
   
It was a bliss that Rory managed to focus on the machine and nothing else. Even if the dried blood on his arms would sometimes make him shudder or if the military jacket stank of smoke a bit too much.              
   
He kept working. Didn't notice the sun coming up, didn't notice Mrs. Angelo calling him for breakfast or lunch. When she came around for dinner, he did notice, but since the machine was so far done now, he figured he might as well finish it.    
   
As such, Rory Williams managed to complete his life's work at nine pm on a dreary day in March.      
   
And felt completely hollow for it.

That wasn't entirely true. He was nervous as hell. If this didn't work, he could end up in the hospital.           
   
 _Or worse, one of the camps._  
   
Nonetheless, when he closed his eyes and conjured up the vague image of the ghost he was looking for, it all became worth it again.          
   
 _Activate the relay, put on the EEG recording net, turn off safety..._  
   
He pressed the on-switch and…

 _Dear God, this hurts_!

His head felt like it was exploding, his eyes burned in their sockets, his arms and legs shook with whatever volts were running through it. He couldn’t stop now, didn’t want too either. Rory held on as long as he could before his mind gave up completely and blacked out.      
   
Along with every electrical appliance in Leadworth's district.                
   
When he came to, there were a lot of bright lights, a killer headache and his wife hanging over him with worried expression on her face.               
   
"Amy?"

* * *

_Time Agency,  ----._

_There you are!_  
   
Angie watched as Ianto stopped momentarily to take off his welding goggles and look at his work. The man was currently bungling on a rope miles above the ground to fix some plating. She could imagine he wouldn’t be keen to come down now only to go up again later, but it was time for lunch.

 _Besides, he still needs to look at these schematics._  
   
She watched as the Welshman demagnetized the hook that made sure he wouldn't plummet to his death and jumped down to the stairways. In all her enthusiasm, Angelica nearly knocked him over when he turned the final corner to the kitchen.          
   
"Hey! Hello, how's the maintenance going?"                
   
"The silver plates on this tower should hold for at least a few more weeks now. Unless the storm starts up again."          
  
"Doubtful. Have you seen Amy?"       
   
"Probably training again."

  
"What is she at now? first Dan?"         
   
"Yep, our girl's getting dangerous."    
   
When they reached the mess hall and sat down to eat (Amy having long since joined them) she pressed the latest status reports on her work into his hands.

   
"The big draining cannon I can finish, but I haven't found a way to make a compact handgun yet."    
   
"What about getting home?" The redhead said while stuffing her mouth with sandwiches. Ianto admonished her with a look.                
   
"We can't go anywhere until we've made a connection. If I can manage that, then we'll be able to create a stable bridge between us and the universe."  
   
It was a testimony to how many times they'd had this conversation that the oppressing silence only lasted a few seconds.               
   
"So, Ianto, movie-night tonight?"       
   
"As always. Sure you don't want to join, Angie?"        
   
"I've got bigger things to work on."    
   
She stood up from the table and left for the laboratory. Ianto and Amy would continue searching the archives for any sign of their parasite. So far, it was largely ineffective.

First, Angie redid the last touches on the ventilation system, which took a good few hours. Then, she began checking the cannon for output-radiation and noticed a tiny red light was bleeping at the bottom of her screen.

“No way…”

Within seconds the little light became a blaring siren, calling throughout the entire Agency. After that, Ianto’s voice crackled through the radio.

"Angie! Tell me you haven't set fire to the lab again!"              
   
"No, but you two need to get down here now. Bring your weapons!"  
   
 _What do I do?! What do I do!? Okay, settle down. Breathe; you practiced for these sorts of things._

She started gathering up all the technical gear she would need. Was halfway through packing the schematics for the cannon when another idea jumped in her head, new information on the screen confirmed what she suspected and because of that, she had to go and find her teammates.

  
Which was why Ianto almost accidently shot her when she ran out of the lab.  
   
"The beacon! It...It-"                
   
"Did you get it to transmit?"                  
   
"No, it's receiving! I-it's rerouting energy coming from earth.-"           
   
"So we can make the bridge?"             
   
"-I don't know. It might be a one-way trip. That's not all, though. Amy, it's rerouting the energy to you! Quantum energy, trying to find you. I can link it to us, but I need you to get in here, now!"        
   
Within minutes Amy was attached to numerous machines while Angelica was trying to get the energy to overlap with hers and Ianto’s.         
   
"What about Hart-?" The redhead asked “We can’t let him starve in an abandoned Agency! ”            
   
“What do you mean 'what about Hart'? I don’t know how long this connection will hold and you’re not going anywhere until we’re all completely linked." Angelica attached another conductor to the girl’s skin.

 _“_ She’s right. No-one deserves to be left behind like that. I’ll go.” Ianto added.

Angie spluttered for a moment, but didn’t try to stop him.

“Wait. Take this; it’s…something I’ve been working on.” She gave him Lang’s vortex manipulator.  “It doesn’t work anymore, but it’s a way to keep him under control once we’re out there. One of us will need to punch in the armory code every eight minutes or Lang will get an electric shock. Just get it around his wrist; he won’t be able to remove it.”

There wasn’t any time to discuss the details, so while Angie and Amy continued to work on the machines, Ianto made his way to the cellblock. When he came back, the rogue was with him and nicely shackled by his own VM.

“Can somebody maybe explain to me what we’re doing? Anyone? No?” Ianto pointed his gun at him.

“Shut up and don’t try anything stupid.-” He turned to her “-Angie, are we ready?”

“Systems are go, I’ve got my equipment, you guys are linked too. It’s now or never.”

“Do it.”

The sensation was not unlike the first time she’d tried to travel with the interference, except things didn’t stop at a lurch in her stomach and a bright flash of light now. It felt like something was trying to shake every organ out of her body. There was nothing to hold onto and nothing to focus on.

Until the ground came crashing into them. 

While Ianto and Amy were still adjusting to the shock of time-hopping, Lang was already trying to get away. When Angie’s horizon was back where it belonged, she took the Welshman’s fallen weapon, caught up with a scrambling Lang and held the barrel of the gun to his temple.

“Think I’ll miss from this distance too?”

That stopped his movement. She kept an eye on her teammates who were still adjusting to being yo-yoed around the time-vortex, while explaining to Lang exactly what he wouldn’t be doing (escaping or trying to kill them) and what he definitely would be doing (helping them bring this to a good end).

Ianto was sitting on his knees, looking quite ill while Amy was tending to someone else in the corner. She couldn’t quite see who. The place was dark, and messy. There were parts everywhere. Nothing much different from the lab they left behind, but every piece was a lot more backwards than she was used to.

“Amy?” Mystery guy spoke up.

She didn’t know the man, but Amy certainly appeared to be trusting him.

_The dried blood and military gear is a bit disturbing though._

“Hey there, stupid.” And then she snogged the stranger right on his lips.

_Right, husband. Got it. I should ask him how he managed to get us here…when they’re done eating face, that is._

Angelica started setting up the stabilizer and briefly wondered if Lang would try out whether or not her threat had been a bluff. For now though, he was just sort of sulking in the corner.

“Something came in just now.” It was Ianto, slightly less green and fiddling with his VM.       
  
“You’re right, mine’s got a recorded voice message as well.”

He called Amy and her Rory over while activating the sound system.

“Listen, whoever you are, there’s more than one way to play this. Are you listening? You want me? Let her family go and I’ll come to you alone…No, just me. Let Rhys go, let Anwen go, let her mother go free. You guys…you know what, here I am! You got me!”

_I know that voice…I definitely know that voice._

“Jack…” Ianto whispered, now more white than green.

* * *

_The back of Gwen’s car, 2011_

_Je-sus, what the hell just happened!?_

That was Jack’s first conscious thought after trying to help Gwen. His neck hurt and his entire body was still tense in an electrocute-y kind of way. Someone had tased him. This warranted his second thought:

_Son of a bitch._

The radio was playing in the background, while his colleague was sitting behind the wheel. Sure, he wasn’t always the nicest guy and yes, maybe he had been a bit crabby lately but he couldn’t recall anything that would warrant this kind of violence.

_This is extreme, even for Gwen._

She was compromised then, probably threatened too.  Suddenly, he was very, very glad he hadn’t been sharing his work with her. That left him some options.  Jack felt around with his hands, trying to stay quiet, and smiled.

_You’d think that after all this time she would’ve learned to take off my vortex manipulator…_

Pressing the emergency button on the little device would, in ordinary circumstances, send a signal to the Agency. Since Jack had long since lost the use for that particular function, his little gizmo now turned to buzzing through messages and functions in Morse code.

_Quite handy if you’ve got no hands to spare._

_…_

_Okay, I am no longer allowed to make jokes after getting electrocuted._

There was an automated message waiting for him apparently. He closed his eyes and focused on the long and short shakes coming from the device.

_Dot, dash…dash, dash, dash…dot._

_A.O.E._

_Agents On Earth_

Jack swore silently, because Time Agents hardly ever made situations simpler. It wasn’t John; the man didn’t give a trace anymore since leaving the Agency. These were certified operatives.

Three of them, if he’d gotten then next Morse line right. Why now though? They hadn’t come looking for him since he’d ran off with the Doctor. Heck, when John told him that the entire place had been shut down, Jack had stopped worrying altogether.

_Too soon, it seems._

Although, these new kids might serve to make his life easier after all. He still had a few cards in his hand. There was that temporal issue messing up earth, if they were trying to fix that, then perhaps they’d be willing to trade off something for few hints or clues about the whole problem. It wouldn´t buy him freedom, they didn’t just let people of the hook like that, but they were certainly easier to bargain with than an erratic human who had no idea what he or she was dealing with.

_God, never thought I’d willingly walk back into the arms of the Agency again._

If he was really going to play this game, then the first step would be finding out what exactly he’d be playing for.

Gwen hadn’t noticed him yet, still so focused on the road before her. That was good, now the only thing left for  him to do was put up a rousing performance.

Jack stumbled a bit, moaned for good measure and then began connecting with his new mark.

“I’m tied down? Why am I tied down!?”

_And the Oscar for best wake up goes to…_

“Look at my eyes, they’re in my eyes.”

“What?”

“They’re in my eyes, the contacts. They’re in my eyes, somebody’s taken Anwen, Rhys, my mother, the whole bloody family and they said that if I’d bring you, they’d let them go unharmed.-”

_Not likely, sweetheart, but thanks for giving me the heads up._

“-Don’t try moving, you’ll never get out of those knots.”

_I don’t need to, I’ve got my VM, so why don’t you keep the illusion of control here, lest we want things go to shit real fast._

“My hands are asleep…my feet? You tied my feet?!” 

 “Of course I did, stupid! Otherwise you’d get out of the car, knock me over and turn the car around.”

_That’s…actually a fair point._

As Gwen explained to him that no-one was answering the phone, Jack was steadily planning his next move. He needed to let the Agents know what he wanted. There was no question that they’d be able to find both him and the Coopers within a matter of minutes. Tap a phoneline here, hack into a system there. It was child’s play, really.

The only problem was that it would take too long to write out his demands and informing Gwen of his plan definitely wasn’t an option.

_Far too emotional to make rational decisions now._

There was however, someone else who shared the Agency’s goal of catching this particular rogue Agent.

“I want to talk to the lenses, look at me so I can talk to them-”

“Oh, why do you keep thinking you can tell me what to do?”

_Steady now…Don’t let her bait you. Stay focused on the con._

“Pull over, or look into the rearview, just please, let me talk to them.”

“Don’t cock this up, okay?”

_Don’t worry, I won’t._

Without giving anything away, he pressed the recording button. They would hear him, and only him.

“Listen, whoever you are, there’s more than one way to play this. Are you listening?

“Yeah, there’s a cursor right there.”

“You want me? Let her family go and I’ll come to you alone.”

“Tell them they can have me too.”

The last thing those Agents would want was ballast. Gwen held no value to them. In their eyes, she was, right now, nothing more than an unstable civilian. It was a shame that he couldn’t get out of answering her. Jack would just have to trust the operatives to be smart enough to figure out why he couldn’t do a nice uninterrupted speech.

No, just me. Let Rhys go, let Anwen go, let her mother go free. You guys…you know what, here I am! You got me!”

_After all these years, you’ve finally caught up with me._

Turning the soundwave into a message and sending it to the right person proved tricky. If he didn’t have the odd one-hundred-and-fifty years of experience with the technology, he might not have been able to pull it off.

_Done._

“Nothing.” Gwen whispered

“Give them a minute.”

 He tried his best to keep her calm, to make sure that she wouldn’t do something stupid and in a way, he succeeded: Gwen was soon falling back on old habits.

_Yelling at Jack for getting everything wrong._

“-Because this is all your fault.-”

_How’d you figure that one out?_

“-What have you done!?-”

_Count to ten…Don’t let her bait you._

“-God, you’ve lived so long, you can’t remember half of it! Now you think!-”

_Kid, I remember every agonizing detail of it. You don’t need to tell me how the story goes._

“-What the hell have you done?!”

_Screw you._

Then another buzz came in. It took him a few moments to decipher. It wasn’t even hard to make her believe he was reliving his sins or something.

_‘Of course.’_

The Agents had consented. Now it was just a matter of waiting. He counted the time in his head. It would take three experienced Agents about seven and half minutes to resolve a 21th century kidnap, anything less was suspicious.

_Four-hundred-and-ninety-four…Four-hundred-and-ninety-five…Four-hundred-and-ninety-six._

A buzz. Spelling the word ‘Sorted’. Eight point two minutes, not a record time, but believable nonetheless. He figured this was as good an indication as he would ever get.

He collected every one of the files he’d created these past few months and sent them all to his new friend on the other side of the connection. Their only response was:

_‘We are coming.’_


	18. Remember me.

* * *

 

_Leadworth, 2011._

 

After finally coming up for air, neither Amy nor Rory were very keen on letting the other out of their sights. So while Angie and Ianto were going a mile a minute on possibilities and theories, the two of them took a moment of quiet time.

“Hey, so, nice slacks captain Williams.” She couldn’t contain her smile and he seemed to be having trouble keeping his in as well.

“Likewise… Mrs. Pond.”

“it’s Agent Pond, I’m totally going by Agent now.” Just for good measure, she pecked him on the lips again. He sighed, sounding just a bit too tired for Amy’s liking.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just….I guess can add another set of memories to my already extensive collection…and apparently a degree in quantum physics as well. Though, it hasn’t exactly been a stellar week either.”

Rory wasn’t telling the whole story there, but she figured they’d get to it eventually, when things calmed down a bit. For now though, it was probably time to introduce her spouse to the others.

“Guys. Guys?! This is Rory.”

Ianto flitted past and nodded briefly, while Angie muttered a ‘hi’ and an ‘I figured you wouldn’t jump a stranger like that’. Amy was offended on Rory’s behalf, but her husband just seemed slightly confused.

“Don’t worry, they’ll warm up to you in no time…bit shy, those two.”

They watched as her teammates were throwing around ideas again.

“He thinks we’re here to arrest him.” Ianto fretting over his partner.

“Not strange given his track-record. I’d be more concerned about the fact that he’s volunteering to come.” Angelica, working on the stabilizer.

“Jack’s not talking freely. Someone’s pressuring him with Gwen’s family. He wants them back. Those are the terms of his capture.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“Free the Coopers. I’m telling Jack that we’re going to get them.”

“Be careful, we don’t know who is watching. Play along with the Time Agent shtick, keep it short and keep it simple.”

“Start looking for Rhys and the others.”

“On it.”

Before long, Angelica had located the family. It was a simple job, there were only a handful of guards and with a perception filter installed on the VM’s it would truly be a piece of cake to get past them.

“Amy,-” Ianto barked. “-with me, we’re going to free those people and I need back-up.”

She didn’t want to leave Rory again, not so soon after finding him again.

“Can I bring Rory?”

“No. Sorry.” The bastard even had the audacity to sound sincere about his answer.

“Go, I’ll be alright.” They managed to squeeze in another short snog before it was well and truly time to get to work.

“Be back in a flash.”

Her second trip with the vortex manipulator was a lot less nauseating than the first. One moment they were in Rory’s basement, the next in some backyard. Ianto pointed her to two guys looking out the window. As long as they were careful, the filters would work and they wouldn’t notice anything.

“Damn, where’s the stun gun when you need it.-” Ianto whispered. “-Keep it non-lethal, okay?”

_Like I need to be told that._

After picking the lock (ridiculously easy with a VM) they entered via the backdoor. Ianto placed himself behind the first man, while she did the same for the second guy. On the count of three, Amy choked one guy with her sheathed sword and Ianto just hit the other one with the butt of his gun.

The third guy got shot in the knee.

“Rhys, mate, are you alright?”

“Who the bloody hell are you?!”

“Gwen’s colleague, Ianto. We were on the run from the government once.”

“Jesus Christ…how did I forget that? But you…”

“I got better. No time to chat. Do you have a safe house?”

Rhys nodded and gave Ianto coordinates. It took them only a quick stop to a beach in Wales before returning to Leadworth.

“Done!” She exclaimed and watched over Ianto’s shoulder as he typed ‘sorted’ into a message. Much to Amy’s surprise, Rory was currently busy setting up the stabilizer along with Angelica and Hart.

“Angie, I’ve got a big chunk of information coming your way, right now.”

“Got it.” Within seconds, the entire room was lit up with tiny dots of light on a holographic globe.

“This is…this is very nice.” Their Time Agent. “I mean, this is absolutely amazing. I didn’t even know a VM could have a spread like that.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“You’re looking at every living person on this planet.-”

It was pretty, she had to give Angie that, but Amy wasn’t exactly sure how an image of Earth’s population would help them.

“-Not just that, it’s scanning, constantly; I could ask for their liver function, their energy input and output, basically anything.”

“Charming. Gear up, we’re picking up Jack now.” Ianto practically commanded. While the two of them were preparing for another jump, through space, rather than time, Angelica interrupted.

“Wait, we can’t.-”

Ianto raised his eyebrow, but didn’t stop fiddling with the vortex manipulator.

“- Look, remember what we found in the Parasite’s chamber? The quantum image? I inserted that energy into the scan. Ianto, look at it. The whole planet is infested by it. He’s feeding off them all.”

Every tiny dot on their earth hologram was turning a different shade of red, some only light pink, while other spots on the map were much darker than that. Their Welshman halted in his progress and walked over to the image.

“London, Washington, Atlanta, Los Angeles and Cardiff.-” To her surprise, Ianto had correctly named every one of the blood red spots without even looking twice. “Why them?” Though the look in his eyes said that he already knew the answer.

“I focused on the highest exposure to the radiation. This is what happened.” The map zoomed in to California, where a deep red line was drawn across the landscape, it was moving, she realized.

“Is it…is that the parasite?” Amy asked.

“No, it’s still human, we can’t even be sure that that thing is on earth, but someone over there has a very deep connection to it, had to have had it for a long time. You don’t get that kind of emotional bond without willingly agreeing to it. One of them is helping the parasite.”

“What does this have to do with-”

“Jack? Look at the coordinates Ianto. They match the trace on his vortex manipulator.”

Amy could feel the tension in the air. If the scan indicated that this Jack had something to do with their enemy, then what? Angelica obviously believed it to be a trap, Ianto seemed very certain it wasn’t. Amy, quite frankly, just felt confused. She was relieved that Rory had no part in this. What if the roles had been reversed? If the data showed a connection between her husband and that thing, what would she have done? She glanced at Rory, standing next to her, and decided.

_I would’ve saved him, I would’ve gotten him and ripped out that parasite. Whether he wanted me too or not._

“Angie, that makes no sense, why would he send us all his data if he was keeping that thing.”

“He could be trying to catch us, or diverting us from the evidence.” The Time Agent answered.

“No. That’s not how Jack works. ” Ianto countered.

“Remember, to him, we’re three unidentified Time Agents, not friends.”

“Or he could be just as much a victim of this thing.”

“But we don’t know! That’s the point!” She grabbed his VM and kept his hand away from the buttons. “Listen, I’m not trying to stop you, but we need to be careful here! Whether it’s Jack, or whoever has captured him, we can’t trust what’s out there.”

“With all due respect, I’m not going to wait around while he’s in danger, even if that danger is Jack himself.”

“Do we…is that really the only options we have, sit back and wait or storm in unprepared? I mean, I’m no expert at these things-” Rory interrupted “- But maybe we could try to find some middle ground here?”

Amy could’ve kissed him right then, but made do with a peck on the cheek. This was just one of those pay attention moments.

“I suppose we could use the perception filters. See what’s happening and then strike.” Ianto said.

“We’ll need every available asset we can get. I’ll go armed. Rory, take one of the guns, Lang, you too. If you have it in you to behave, that is.” Angelica added, and just like that, they were working together again.

“Angie, interrupt messages for civilian back up. Assets are nice but we really don’t want to turn this into a bloodbath.”

“On it.”

Eventually the four of them managed to work out a plan that would hopefully take down whatever dangers they would find in California. With Rory on her arm, she made the jump while her head was still stuck on one thing.

* * *

_Mesa, California, 2011_

 

When the sun slowly crept across the horizon, Jack lamented that it really didn’t make anything less dark. He tried to remember the words objectively, without emotion or bias, but every time he did, bile rose up in his throat. The confidence trick he had tried to play had done a complete u-turn and now served to make him less in control than he had ever been.

The words con-gone-wrong didn’t even do this fiasco justice.

_“It’s me. I caused this. I made this happen.-”_

_For a moment Jack thought that she was talking about the case, about the miracle, the temporal fuck-up. He’d been so busy trying to contact the Agents again that Gwen’s blubbering had sort of faded into the background. Those words however, had brought him right back to the car and its driver._

_“- I knew Torchwood was toxic, right from the moment I joined up. -”_

_That’s when he realized that this really wasn’t about Torchwood, she was just going on about her own problems. He had meant to return to his business of trying to contact his now silent partners but then she grabbed his attention again._

_“- The very first day, but I stayed.”_

_“I’m glad you did.” And in a way, he was. She had been fun, bubbly, simple, compared to the others. They had come aboard with their own experience, their own history, which was fascinating in another way but with Tosh, Owen, Suzie and Ianto he had had to work with the tools they brought along. Gwen, he could train. She had known nothing and he was free to turn her into whatever he felt Torchwood needed. A solid gunman…or woman in this case. Owen was good at shooting, but a doctor first, Tosh and Ianto were pacifists at heart, and Suzie was always more interested in the guns themselves rather than firing them._

_“Stop being so nice. We left nice behind a hundred miles ago. I’m trying to be honest, okay. Because you know what the worst thing is of all, out of all the shit we have seen, all the black shit, all the horror, you know what’s the worse than all of that? I loved it. I bloody loved it, and I’d keep telling Rhys I was sorry and I’d say to little Anwen ‘I’m sorry’ but I loved it so much...-”_

_When his mind had finally caught up with the words, he still didn’t quite understand what she was trying to say. So she loved it? There was nothing wrong with having a bit of job satisfaction. Sure, their job was more stressful than others, but everyone in Torchwood loved it. That’s why they were Torchwood._

_If Tosh hadn’t loved extraterrestrial languages and technology, she wouldn’t have put up with hiding their evidence. If Owen hadn’t loved alien guts, he probably would’ve ended his life long before Torchwood could. If Suzie hadn’t loved the mysterious aspects of Torchwood, she wouldn’t have served all those years. If Ianto hadn’t loved helping people then, perhaps, he would’ve chosen the retcon. Heaven knows he hadn’t been staying for Jack back then. If he hadn’t loved…well, really, he loved his employees, not so much the aliens (Those weren’t exactly special, being an E.T. himself). But anyway, he wouldn’t have come back from the Doctor if there hadn’t been someone waiting for him. Before Jack could go into intricate memories of Ianto though, the difference between Gwen and him made itself painfully clear._

_“-I knew things no-one else knew and I felt so special and when we lost people, it was so, so big and I could say it was worth it, ‘cause the bigger it was, the more important I was and the more people we lost, the more that meant I was a survivor and I was better than them.”_

Those words, they’d turned him into stone, his insides into ice, stopped his heart and made him feel sick, honest to God nausea like he hadn’t felt in centuries. Even now, they catapulted him right out of the memory. Whatever else she had been saying back then, it had been lost between her clogged up throat and his less-than-functioning ears. For a moment, he had struggled, had feebly tried to gain control of the situation. It was no good, Gwen had released another onslaught and for once, Jack had managed to retaliate with the exact words he’d wanted too.

_“Now that I’m mortal, I’m going to hang on to this with everything that I’ve got, I love you Gwen Cooper but I will rip your skin from your skull before I let you take this away from me.”_

Of course, the more he mulled over the words, the more he realized that he loved her like he loved John: Four galaxies away and in a few good memories. He looked at the short Welshwoman standing next to him now, but could only see the grieving he’d done over the past five years.

Looking over the city, trying to stop Suzie from pulling that trigger over and over again in his mind.

Waking up from nightmares of rose petals and ominous winds every night, months after Estelle’s body was laid to rest.

Dividing Tosh and Owen’s jobs between him and Ianto after workhours, splitting an entire bottle of scotch between them as well.

Ignoring the bags under his eyes at work after another sleepless night of sitting with Gray’s frozen body.

Burning every picture of Steven and Melissa (Alice, he still had to convince himself to call her that) he owned because he didn’t deserve those anymore.

Bawling his eyes out in Ianto’s apartment after putting the last of his things in boxes, alone.

All those times when he had felt like he had failed them. They, the ones who were so much braver than he was, so much better. They’d marched to their death when Jack had needed them to. And him? He’d stayed behind and had recruited more people to die.

_“The more people we lost, the more that meant I was a survivor and I was better than them.”_

Better?

They were the worst of them, the cowards who weren’t willing to give their all for the greater good. It would be alright though. He would make it right. Jack would fix the timeline and find a way to bring them all back.

“This is it, it’s been a long time coming. All those years.”

He was mostly talking to himself, but inevitably, Gwen had heard him.

“What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? Not just on earth.”

_The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen lived on earth, and I’m the middle of getting him back there._

But since Jack was still feeling cross, he decided not to tell her that.

“I’m not doing this, I’m not giving final speeches.”

And then, just for good measure, he lied some more. About an exploding little bird. People ate that shit up. To see Gwen cry about it was really the cherry on his morbid cake. Of course, then she had to start digging about his life again and he seriously wasn’t getting into that with her.

_Not after tonight, I’m not._

So instead, he just made her feel guiltier for using his life as a bargaining chip.

_You won’t be feeling special this time, princess._

They ran out of things to say long before the car reached its destination. For Jack, it wasn’t uneasy; he was far more consumed with the delayed Agents. If they weren’t going to show up on time, he’d be forced to escape on his own. Jack needed to be free if he was going to fix the timeline and nothing was going to stop him, Rhys, Anwen and whatever-her-mother’s-name-was be damned.

He was eyeing Gwen’s gun, it’d be a trick, but he could maneuver his way out of the plastic around his wrists. For now, though, he’d wait and try to uncover this mysterious enemy as much as he could. On first glance, he didn’t recognize the woman stepping out of the car, nor the two men by her side.

“Thank you, you followed the instructions, as far as I can tell.” When Jack realized he didn’t know her nasal voice either, he began worming his way out of the ties .

“Captain Harkness, the last mortal man, it has been a long journey.”

Just as he began reaching out for the gun, a snort interrupted the strange woman’s monologue followed by a distinctly Welsh:

“I’ll say, but I don’t think we’re quite there yet.”

For the second time that day, his heart stopped, he was having trouble breathing and his stomach was doing summersaults, because there, right behind the woman, was a very familiar face.

_Ianto…_

Jack felt like laughing, like crying and like screaming all at the same time. Sadly, his mouth was only up for saying one thing.

“Ianto?” he barely managed more than a whisper.

Gwen wasn’t faring much better either.

“B-but…You, you’re- ”

“Dead? Reliable sources have told me differently.” The Welshman smiled, and Jack’s heart was doing strange things again. After trying, and failing, to process the situation, he noticed that Ianto’s left wrist and clothing weren’t quite as familiar as his smile.

He was wearing full on Time Agent’s regalia, right down to the coat and the vortex manipulator. After that Jack noticed the two women standing behind them. One on the left, one on the right, and where Ianto’s gun had been trained on the stranger (Her two bodyguards had been knocked out, and Jack wondered why no-one noticed that) theirs were aiming for Gwen and himself.

_Three Time Agents…_

At first his brain refused to connect the dots, but then it clicked. This was his ride; these were the people that were coming to get him.

_And one of them’s Ianto._

Then another group of people arrived on the scene: Rex and Esther, being led by a guy in military slacks and John Hart. Since his speech center was still stuttering through all the changes, he, once more, only managed to utter the man’s name.

“John?!”

“Hello there, handsome-” before his old partner could continue whatever greeting he had planned, his other old partner took control.

“Yes, Thank you Mr. Lang, that’s quite enough.”

John muttered a despondent “I live to serve.” before Ianto continued.

“Right. Well, now that we’re all here: Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper, Rex Matheson and Esther Drummond, I hereby place you under arrest on suspicion of damaging three timelines. If you co-operate, we will try to accommodate you in any way possible.-” he then turned to Jack’s captor deadpanning “- and I’m not exactly sure who you are, but you’re under arrest as well.”

That was a shock. The guy, Ianto or not-Ianto, shoved the stranger into the blonde Agent’s hands…

_I think I know her too._

…and walked past them to stand behind Jack.

The redhead (whose legs were impossibly long, Jack reluctantly admired) moved towards Gwen with a pair of cuffs. Just before she could put them on, Mrs. Cooper remembered she usually responded like rabid dog in situations like this and promptly began to thrash.

“You! Leave me alone! My husband! I have to find my baby, you bitch!! They have my family!!!” Sex on legs was having a hard time trying to get Gwen under control, and unlike the by-the-book Agents, did a fair amount of swearing to counter the Welshwoman.

“Jesus, woman!! What the hell is wrong with you?! They’re fine! Would you stop biting me!!” after a quick shuffle both of them fell to the ground and the rest of the group just calmly observed their struggle. Meanwhile Ianto was still standing in the same spot and Jack could practically feel him breathing.

Eventually, Red got Gwen’s face in the dirt, silencing her and straddling her down. For a moment, Jack was actually afraid the woman had smothered Gwen, but eventually some grunts came out and he decided that she would be fine, and if not, well, Jack wasn’t feeling very generous right now.

_“The more people we lost, the more that meant I was a survivor and I was better than them.”_

A warm hand at his back turned him away from the memory. Ianto again. He was staring off in the distance as he cuffed Jack and took the captain’s VM.

“Jack, I’m sorry.-” a whisper, obviously meant for his ears only“-This is…There are strange things happening and we need to-”

Jack shivered as the hand moved down from his back towards his own hands, holding them and entwining their fingers, as much as was possible in that angle.

_He’s still the Ianto I knew._

Jack turned his head and looked at the Welshman before answering.

“I know, precautions.” He squeezed their hands lightly and smiled.

There he was, being arrested by the organization he had feared for centuries, and yet truly happy for the first time in years.

* * *

_Time Agency, ----._

Ianto was very, very reluctant to put Jack in a cell like the others, who were, apart from Gwen, all strangers…and suspects. He knew it wasn’t Jack. Knew that the man couldn’t have anything to do with this, there was just no way.

_And now I have to pretend like he does._

Letting out another deep sigh, he sat down in the big chair of the control room. Usually Angie sat there, but she was still tending the fragile bridge between the Agency and Earth right now. They had managed to keep the machine running when they returned here. He still wasn’t sure if he didn’t regret the decision to go back.

On the one hand, he had no idea where else they would go. The hub had been blown up, heck, the entire history of the universe was different now. Ianto didn’t belong on that planet any more than he belonged at the Agency. Even less so, because he knew the Agency by now, the same couldn’t be said for Earth. At least not this version of it. On the other hand, being on the planet again had felt like freedom, like not being trapped while the world moved on without him. Rationally, he knew that right now, they could come and go as they pleased but still, the feeling persisted.

It was safer this way though, for them, as well as their guests. Here, they weren’t in touch with the parasite. Angie had checked, the suspicious radiation was gone from all of them. Now, they needed to figure out who was linked to the parasite and who was just being fed on.

After putting everyone in their cells, Angie had announced that there was work to be done and disappeared into the lab. Rory had asked if perhaps there was a shower he could use and Amy had snuck off to ‘help’ him not long after that. He was happy for them; it was good to see she didn’t feel so lost anymore.

The downside was that it left him alone in the control room, with nothing but a couple of holoscreens for company.

He took another sip of whatever was left of the freaky space-vodka they’d found in their first days here.

_I could go down there, talk to Jack and see what he’s been up to, what he remembers._

But no, it was a bad idea. If he started talking to Jack, he wouldn’t be able to stop and then he surely wouldn’t be leaving that cell for the rest of the night.

He couldn’t risk his already frail objectivity.

Both Angie and Amy had understood that in this investigation, Jack’s case had priority. The others would of course be questioned as well, but first they would try to find evidence on whether or not Jack had actually been a part of this.

Ianto glanced at the vortex manipulator to his right. It looked so different from his own black wristdevice. His was still shiny and new, whereas Jack’s was clearly showing its age. Little dents here and there, a few parts had been upgraded or damaged. Even the strap had been replaced since he’d last seen it.

That little machine would hopefully provide them with information that proved Jack innocent. If not, then perhaps Amy and Angie would figure it out. Them, not him, he would have no part in harassing Jack about the past two years. He wouldn’t be very good at it. Ianto wouldn’t go soft, the captain had trained him better than that, but he wouldn’t ask the right questions, so convinced that Jack hadn’t done it.

_It would also be shit on our relationship._

So, there he was, with the promise of a few lonely, busy days ahead of him and a clear view on every occupied cell in the Agency.

John had settled right back into his usual routine, and was now watching a movie from the 1930’s.

The stranger, whose name was Olivia Colasante (apparently her father had known Jack a long time ago), was crying in the corner, no doubt wondering who the hell this strange lover of her father’s really was and how she had ended up in something that resembled a science fiction movie.

Ms. Drummond, who was all in all calmer about the situation than he would’ve expected from her, was quietly reading a book in the corner.

Watching Mr. Matheson’s cell was quite amusing. First, he had taken to checking the cell for possible bugs and camera’s (completely missing the one that was actually there) and had then began looking for ways out, only to resort to randomly throwing his chair at the door in the end.

Then there was Gwen, whose camera feed he had muted after only a few minutes. She was screaming, about Rhys, about the world, about the unfairness of it all, about how much she hated Jack and had known that he would betray her. Ianto didn’t know what had happened between them, but he wasn’t going to touch it with a ten-foot pole until one of them willingly explained it to him.

_Speaking of which…_

Watching Jack’s feed should’ve been boring. The man had dropped himself on the bed, immediately after the door had locked and had been staring at the ceiling since then. It should have been boring, but really wasn’t, because Jack stared at nearly the exact spot where the camera was placed. He moved, occasionally, walked around a bit, washed his hands, but always returned to watching eventually. A part of Ianto suspected that Jack figured out he was sitting here, but another part found that unlikely. It made the whole spectacle strangely mesmerizing.

_I could probably just spend the entire evening watching it._

He wondered how often Jack had done the same. There’d been CCTV connected to the screens in his office after all. At first, Ianto was afraid of them, once they’d found the cyberwoman, he’d just been resentful. Then, he found it slightly creepy to know that Jack could be watching at any time. But only until he found out that the captain rarely used them unless it was one of his flirty days. After that, Ianto simply ignored them, or teased Jack with them. The captain always got sick of those things after ten minutes anyway and then he would just start visiting Ianto in person.

_It’s probably better for both of us if I didn’t go down that road now._

Relishing that feeling of being watched, Ianto left the Agency’s sensors to look over their prisoners. After wandering around for another thirty minutes he found himself staring at the large window near his room.

The atmosphere hadn’t changed a bit. The only evidence of their trip to earth was to be found in the cellblocks…And Amy’s shower.

_Maddening, really, to think that a few hours ago, it was just a day like any other._

Everything had happened so quickly, one moment they were just looking for a trace of the parasite, the next he was confronted with a new world and Jack. A different Jack, who was still the same, somehow.

He walked away from the large window; the view was still showing falling 'stars' crashing into the blue veil anyway.        
  
He could've gone to bed, taken heed of how difficult tomorrow would be, but the chance of him actually getting some sleep was about as big as calming Gwen down at this point, so he moved on again.               
  
Eventually, his feet found the archives. Their work from yesterday was still lying around, tablets, memory chips and empty glasses waiting to be cleaned. Ianto ignored his first instinct and started up the holographic interface.               
  
"Show me Wen Greel."           
  
A life-size, translucent image of the man stood before him: With his strong jawline and stern eyes, he looked every bit the great leader most of history made him out to be.

He hadn’t thought much of it at first, but more and more he began to see the similarities between them. Hiding dangerous creatures away from the world and nearly destroying it because of them. Had Greel hidden the parasite out of love? Or fear?

_Oh Lisa, it always comes back to this, doesn’t it?_

He wondered what would’ve happened to her if the entire Torchwood team had been killed before she was found. Would she have died? She hadn’t needed nutrition in the end. Perhaps someone else would’ve found her and stopped her. Perhaps the entire human race would’ve been doomed because of him.

He looked back at Greel.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

Every human being on earth, infected by his basement secret. All their lives on the balance, the entire universe out of sync because of one stupid secret.

At least they’d gained some ground now. They’d gone from ‘next to nothing’ to ‘halfway there’ in less than a day. That was as favorable as it was scary, all of the sudden, their weapon needed to be operational, their people needed to be trained and their time was running out.

The battle was finally on the horizon but Ianto didn’t feel ready for it at all. He sighed and picked up one of the tablets. Perhaps he’d find Greel’s nightmare tonight.


	19. Like a pale reflection.

* * *

 

_Time Agency, ----._

 

 _"Are you sure we should be doing this?"_  
 __  
"Yes."  
  
"But really, can't we find a way to tell her?"  
  
"It won't work, she's too emotionally invested."

_“So are you.”_

_“Which is why I’ve stepped back from it, she should as well.”_  
  
"Don’t you think that’s her choice?"                  
  
"I suppose I do, but I cannot have her messing around with him like that. It's too risky."        
  
"Fine. I want to go on the record here, though: I don't like this."         
  
"but you'll do it?"        
  
"I guess."

* * *

“Good morning!”

In Jack’s opinion, that was pretty debatable right now. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to stop the redheaded glamazon from trying to make this a kittens-and-sunshine kind of affair. So, after barging into his cell she enthusiastically suggested Jack should turn around and get cuffed so they could make their way to the interrogation.

_Oh yeah, this is going to be great._

“So captain Harkness-” She said, when they were both finally seated “My name is Amy Pond and it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

It was genuine, he could see that. Which worried him a bit, either she had something up her sleeve, or this girl was the best damn liar he had ever met. The upside was that she seemed very, very sassy. To the point of recklessness, even. That was good, sassy he could work with. Heck, by now, sassy felt like an old friend he hadn’t seen in too long a time.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Pond. Now then, if you could just tell me what kind of misunderstanding we’re working with here, that way we can all enjoy our coffee breaks in freedom.”

Speaking of which, there had been coffee included with his breakfast. Ianto’s coffee. And perhaps Jack had gotten slightly giddy when he found that out. Of course, the whole thing had gone south when he realized that he’d be talking to Pond, instead of the master brewer himself.

“Aha! Cheeky! I like that in a man!-” The redhead interrupted him while scrolling nervously on her tablet. “-Basically, we think you might be an accomplice in changing at least three timelines and possibly capturing a mutual friend of ours.”

The first he’d expected, the second, not so much.

“Who?”

“Oh you know, old man, bit quirky, travels around in a big blue box.”

_Of course she knows the Doctor, she’s exactly his type: Young, female and impressionable._

Well, it certainly explained why Jack had stood alone against the forces of the universe for the past few years. To think he’d been holding a grudge against the Time Lord, when the alien was possibly knee-deep in vortex-crap himself.

“Wait, the Doctor’s missing? How?”

“We were sort of hoping you could help us with that.”

_Bingo! Now, there’s a bit of leverage I can use._

“You know what? No offence, but I think I’d be more inclined to talk to someone who is a little taller dark haired, welsh and preferably male.”

_Male, definitely male. I have no inclination to talk to that other dark haired Welshperson you’ve got up in here._

He smiled the patented Harkness smirk, tried to pull out a few puppy-dog eyes but alas, to no avail.

“Ah, sorry, no can do, cap’n. Ianto’s staying off your case. His idea, not mine.”

Inwardly, Jack started cursing; Ianto had always been horribly disciplined when it came to business related affairs. Of course he wouldn’t want to get up close and personal with a suspect.

_I just really wanted to see him, or talk to him, or anything really._

His interrogator must have noticed the prolonged silence, because she suddenly blurted out that perhaps they could find another Agent to talk to him.

“No, no, don’t worry, just curious.” He tried smiling again. Somehow, it didn’t go as well as before.

This girl was obviously out of her league: hopelessly inexperienced in the questioning spiel. Which was exactly why Jack would much rather talk to her. With Amy, he could smile, chat and pull a reverse interrogation technique to dig up a bit of knowledge. A much better alternative to sitting with some stone-faced veteran who would try to wrangle him into a corner.

"So, Amy, how does a girl like you end up in a place like this?"             
  
She hesitated for a moment, a part of her probably realized that it was bad measure to tell a complete stranger, and prisoner no less, your life's history. The bigger part however, seemed to trust Jack implicitly and soon enough, she was telling him all about her travels with the Doctor, her crash into the Agency and for some strange reason her wedding.      
  
_A few years ago, I might've made the same mistake as well._  
  
Jack lounged back on his chair and while Amy nonchalantly put her feet up the table.             
  
"Basically, I was just standing there yelling 'Doctor! Doctor!' Like a loon, my family must've thought I was nuts, that is, until a TARDIS materialized in the middle of the room. Come to think of it, that was probably the only occasion he was actually on time.-"              
  
He enjoyed her stories, she wasn't as sweet as Rose, nor quite as serious as Martha, but she did have that enthusiasm about the world, the Doctor and life in general.            
  
"-Anyhow, that's when I landed here. I was scared, you know. Nearly peed my pants when I heard some strange footsteps down the hall. Turns out it was only Ianto, but when I realized that I had already nearly bashed his skull in with my lamp."        
  
The part about Ianto interested him.                
  
_Is there any part about him that doesn't interest you, Harkness?_  
  
"Did Ianto ever tell you about us?"    
  
"In his own Ianto-y way he did, yeah."             
  
Jack did nothing more than give her an enquiring look, which was really all the long-legged chatterbox needed.                  
          
"Ohh, you know how he is, first it's all silent broody looks, then he starts to deny it, if you pressure him on it he'll lie. Then, maybe, if you're lucky he might slip a word or two about it eventually.-"       
  
That did sound a lot like his Welshman. Except Jack noticed the way Amy's eyes kept shifting to the right: She was making stuff up. Either Ianto hadn't told her anything about the two of them or he had forgone his usual behavior and actually talked to someone for once.      
  
_Neither of those are very reassuring._  
  
"- I was actually a little curious about that. Me and him, I'd like to think that we've become quite good friends by now. You should know, I don't have a lot of those and I don't like seeing 'em get hurt. Now, he loves you kind of a lot, but the question is, do you feel the same way? Cause if you don't we're going to need to have a different kind of talk."  
  
 _Oh Christ, not this again.  
_   
The funny thing was, had she asked him that question two years ago, when he was seriously involved with Ianto, Jack would've spluttered, backed up and avoided the question all together. Since then though, he'd been reminded of how miserable the world outside his little hub really was and happily recognized that sometimes people (himself included) needed to be told they mattered to others. Still, it surprised him how automatically and confidently the words rolled of his tongue.    
  
"Absolutely. No doubt about it."        
  
"For better or for worse? In sickness and in health?"                
  
"Amy, are you trying to marry me to Ianto right now?"            
  
"If I was, would you object?"                
  
Jack couldn't stop himself from laughing at the sheer boldness of her proposal, but found he didn't mind the idea per se. He'd been married before. Hell, it would be at least a hundred times more legit than that one drunken ceremony he and John sat through.        
  
"No, but I think you might want to make sure the other guy is at least present before going through with something like that."      
  
Which pretty much summed up why this conversation was, in fact, quite painful. Jack had hoped that, if not present, Ianto would at least be watching from the control room. By now, he was forced to admit that that probably wasn't the case. Like Amy had said before, the Welshman was fiercely protective of his personal life (for one thing, Jack had only met his sister after Ianto himself had died and could no longer give consent or shuffle the truth away) and wouldn't want his well kept secrets laid out on the table by mrs. Pond like that.  
  
Moreover, If Ianto had been watching, he would've probably steered this conversation towards an actual questioning, rather than a friendly chat.  
  
"Now, while I never refuse a good wedding party, we probably have more pressing matters to attend to. What can you tell me about these temporal problems we've been having?"          
  
Amy took the bait immediately and never even thought twice about divulging her secrets.  
  
"Oh! Right! Of course. So, emhh, three timelines and a Doctor disappeared because there's this parasite who escaped from the Time Agency. Apparently it's now hiding somewhere near earth, sucking out everybody's...quantum energy? Yeah, that was it."          
  
_Whoah, that old story?! Quantum energy? Although come to think of it..._  
  
He couldn't finish formulating whatever question he had wanted to ask next, because the door slid open and a very, very angry blond woman stormed in.  
  
"Angie? What are you...?! Hey. Hey! let me go!"        
  
"Oh yeah, yell my name too why don't you!"               
  
The woman had grabbed Amy by the arm and dragged her out of the room.  
  
And just like that, Jack was left alone again, the only thing keeping him company being some very strange and disturbing new ideas as to what had exactly happened on Earth.

* * *

 _Oh fuck, she's making a mistake!_  
  
Ianto raced down the hallway, trying to get to his teammates before things went even further down the drain.          
  
He found Amy and Angie screaming at each other, not ten feet from the interrogation room where Jack was probably still waiting.             
  
"What the hell do you think were you doing!? We need to extract information from him, not dump some more in there!"              
  
"You had no right to grab me like that! I was busy!!"                 
  
"Busy ruining our main suspect yeah!"             
  
They exchanged a few more barbs like that before noticing his strict posture and silent order to shut up. Things cooled down pretty quickly when they did.  
  
"Do you even know what she was doing in there!?" Angie was the first to regain her wits.  
  
He raised an eyebrow and answered.              
  
"Yes, what I ordered her to do. Although, betrothing me to Jack was not exactly part of the plan."            
  
The remark was aimed at Amy who simply shrugged.              
          
"I had to improvise a bit."       
  
This, Ianto figured, was quite the understatement: He'd had to grit his teeth and physically stop himself from calling her back while she 'improvised' his feelings towards Jack.            
  
"You were watching then."    
  
"The control room is not the only place that can receive those feeds."  
  
In fact, there was a tiny room lodged between several interrogation chambers with big holoscreens capable of watching everything that had happened between Jack and Amy.              
  
"Figures you'd like that place. Well, enlighten me then of this brilliant plan you two had." He wasn't sure if she was pissed because he'd let such important information slip or because she hadn't been able to anticipate it.  
  
"Jack hardly ever lies.-" The plan had occurred to him last night in the archives when scrolling through the man's file once more. "-He either admits the truth, omits it completely or spins it into an unbelievable tale."  
  
"Yeah...so?"  
  
"So we won't know whether or not he's giving us information wrapped up in bullshit or just using old stories to cover up the fact that he doesn't know anything."  
  
"How does this relate to Amy spilling her guts?"         
  
"The moment he starts using Amy's information, we'll know he's running out of truths."       
  
"Ah.-" for a moment, Ianto thought he might get out of this without her skepticism, but sadly, Angie still managed to not be satisfied. "- So how do we separate the bullshit-wrap from the actual truth?"            
  
He sighed.      
  
"I'm hoping the others might be able to provide the information necessary to sift through Jack's book of incredible tales."        
  
"Right, well, on that note, Colasante knows fuck all about the whole thing. Her plan at kidnapping Harkin was nothing more than a half assed attempt to get him to talk to her dying father."  
  
While Ianto was more interested in this old lover of Jack's (he'd never gotten the chance to talk to Estelle), Amy grasped a whole other aspect of the conversation.  
  
"Hang on? Dying? I thought everybody was immortal now?"                
  
"Oh, that. Yeah, they had him hooked up to a null field, no biggie."  
  
"Could we use that? To end this miracle thing?" He asked, Angelica just snorted in response.             
  
"Well sure, but we'd just be curing the symptoms, rather than the disease. I mean, off the top of my head I can think of at least three ways to fix morphic fields, even more if I was allowed to experiment on your boy in there -"  
  
 _Not bloody likely, woman, not bloody likely._  
  
"-but none of those would restore the timelines or stop the parasite, on which I'd still be drawing blanks if not for our gun."       
  
Right. They had to think bigger: Not in people, cities, countries, continents or even worlds. This was about entire threads of history and future…and an incredibly difficult mess to figure out, on top of all the other incredibly difficult messes. For now though, Ianto decided that he would focus on talking to Gwen, figuring out what she knew and what had happened since he'd died.           
  
Angie and Amy, in the meantime, had moved on to the next order of business: They couldn't send the redhead back in and pretend like nothing had happened, Jack would get suspicious. Ianto had already declined as far as the captain knew, so he couldn't go...which only left Angelica and an idea that had stupid written all over it: Jack mistrusted Time Agents and Angie still had issues with rogues, despite her insisting otherwise. Those traits would turn an already iffy situation downright flammable.    
  
"Still,-" she countered "-The problems between Harkin and me are not personal, there's nothing there for me to ruin. You go in there and make a wrong move, he might clam up completely."

 _Gwen. Just keep your focus on talking to Gwen._  
  
"Alright fine, let's just hope Amy's spilled enough information for Jack to use when he needs it. Because if that parasite figures out we took its link to earth, it might not respond kindly."     
  
He turned around, took a deep breath and made his way to the interrogation cell where Mrs. Cooper was waiting for him.                 
  
_Well, here goes._  
  
The first thing he'd had to do was dodge the chair that she threw at him.  
  
Then a shoe...              
  
And lastly, for some mysterious reason, an earring.                  
  
"Where the bloody hell's my family?!"             
  
"They're fine! Calm down, Gwen."    
  
Somewhere in the process Gwen must've realized that she was, in fact, talking to her very dead co-worker. It stopped her rage, drained the colour from her cheeks and made her approach to him more than a little skittish.

Ianto counted it as a step up.               
  
"Christ Ianto, it's really you isn't it?-" Shaky hands touched his face and within seconds he was crushed into a bear hug. It felt like coming home. "-Ohh, pet, you have no idea. No idea at all how things've gone to shit. I mean, Jack, he's done these things and...and...now this! Rhys, Anwen. It's all his fault!" She was sobbing against him now.          
  
"Shhhh, it's okay, they're safe, at home, I made sure of it. Don't worry, it'll be fine."  
  
He'd seen Gwen and Jack fight more times than he was comfortable with, always ending up stuck in the middle somehow. And here they were, 3000 years in the future, still playing those exact same roles.  
  
 _The more things seem to change…_  
  
"I eliminated the kidnappers and took your family to Wales.-" Ianto sat her down and continued "-They won't look for them there. Now, what happened to you since I-"           
  
_Don't say died, don't say died, don't say died._  
  
"-last saw you?"          
  
"Well, I had a baby."                 
  
"I gathered that, yes.-" He smiled. She returned the sentiment with a watery one of her own." But I was thinking more along the lines of ' What happened to Torchwood?'"         
  
"Jack killed his grandson."      
  
Ianto tried really, really hard to not to respond to Gwen's words.      
          
_Stephen? But he wouldn't, he couldn't have..._  
  
"Why?" It sounded awfully raspy.      
  
She told him about the aftermath of the 456, Clem's death and the virus and Ianto wished the earth would swallow him whole.

 _If I hadn't been so bloody reckless, the boy might've lived. God, what have I done?_  
  
Gwen continued telling the tragic tale without prompting. Jack had left her (and the rest of the planet), hadn't even had the decency to show up at his funeral and by the way, why had Ianto lied to her about his father's profession?   
  
It was cumbersome, but definitely worth the effort. The picture became clearer with every word: Jack had left earth, Torchwood had been shut down, Gwen had stayed off the radar for two years, until the so called miracle had happened, which led to a couple of CIA-agents snooping around and then, lo and behold, Captain Jack Harkness started showing up again.   
  
Mortal.  
  
"I swear, Ianto, he's the one you should be looking at. Global immortality? This has his name written all over it! Just like those damn fairies or...or the 456. Every time something weird happens, Jack's had his hand in it!"  
  
"Gwen, we have no reason to-" he tried feebly.         
  
"No reason to what?! Distrust him? We don't even know his real name."  
  
Before Ianto could stop himself, he looked her straight in the eyes. Had this been anyone but Gwen, the gesture would've probably gone unnoticed. Sadly, though, the Welshwoman knew exactly how to interpret that sign:  
  
"My God, you know, don't you?! Come on then, spit it out. Don't leave your old teammate hanging here!"              
  
He hated this side of her. Most of the time, Gwen was a friendly, cheerful person, but then sometimes she would become like this: Greedy, aggressive and reckless. When Mrs. Cooper had her eye on something, she would stop at nothing to get her way.     
  
"I can't. It's not for me to say."             
  
_Jones, you bloody hypocrite, had you really cared about the man's privacy then you wouldn't have gone nosing through those files in the first place._  
  
"What do you mean, you can't?! We're friends aren't we!? What if it's something important? What if we need that name to stop that miracle!? "  
  
"Trust me, it really isn't."         
  
"Trust you? Really?! That's your answer? You? Who has done nothing but lied to me since the moment we met! 'Oh no Ms. Cooper, there's no secret base beneath this office', 'Don't worry Gwen, those power outages mean nothing', 'I'm not shagging Jack','my dad's a tailor'-"         
  
"Enough!"  
  
She seemed momentarily taken aback by his outburst (Not surprising, since Ianto himself had been shocked by it as well) but picked up where she left off soon enough.              
  
"-Fuck you, Ianto Jones, you're as bad as he is. I've got nothing more to say to you! Now get out. I said, get out!"              
  
In truth, he should've just told her 'no' and stayed right where he was. If only to show that he was the one in control of the conversation, but the point was moot, Gwen knew nothing: Basing her accusations solely on the fact that Jack was mortal (which, come to think of it, might be Ianto's fault anyway) and the extraterrestrial connections a man with his age and experience was bound to have in any case.

So he left Gwen to her own devices and asked Amy to take her back to the cells.

_I'm probably better off preparing for Angie's interrogation with Jack tomorrow, either way._   
  



	20. Everything you can't control.

* * *

_Time Agency, ----._

 

Another sleepless night mingled with even more tiresome nightmares had left Angelica in a less than favorable mood to begin with, and really, that was just the start of the day.      
  
It hadn't just been the rogues plaguing her though. No, last night it'd been the little things from her childhood as well. The jeers of _Angelica can't shoot_ and _Angelica can't feel_ were still ringing in her ears as she washed her face.

She could handle those, she always had. Nothing new, just another day. Except…

_They lied to me._

Amy and Ianto had told her that the interrogation would serve its purpose. Even convinced her that the redhead was the best choice for it.

Instead, they’d gone right behind her back and told Harkin everything.

_Everything. All of it. How can they trust him?!_

He was a rogue, he was a suspect and he never did anything without a motive. People like him didn’t care. They stole organs. They killed good, honest Agents. They freed monsters like that parasite.

_It’s no stretch to work with it, once you’ve gone down that path._

And now her friends, the people she’d been living with for god knows how long were dancing along to his tunes.

_They lied to me._

_They lied to me, because they’re in his grip. It’s not their fault, they don’t know his type like I do._

She hated this, having to act this quickly. Honestly, questioning was never her strongest point, too many variables, too few machines to make sense of it all. Preferably, she’d have run a few more scans find a detail, a piece of evidence that would confirm what she already knew. But if she didn’t do something now, the parasite would strike before they finished the investigation, or worse Harkin would infiltrate in deeper and she would not let Amy and Ianto go down that road.

_They are not going to become him._

Looking at Amy, sitting across the breakfast table being her chipper and friendly self only strengthened her resolve.

"So! I was thinking maybe I should just annoy the hell out of our G-man Rex in there. I can't scare him, guy's gotten more than his taste of scary since joining Torchwood and from what I can tell he's about as sociable as a brick wall. What do you say?"                  
  
Angie hummed and replied something along the lines of it being a viable strategy before returning to her own work.        
  
_Funny, I was planning to do exactly the same to my suspect._  
  
Like Matheson, Harkin wouldn't be afraid of her: the man had survived hotter fires, nor would she go with friendly. Odds were he remembered who Angelica was, or would do so during the process, and unmask that move as a charade immediately.     
  
Through Ianto however, she'd gotten a glimpse at the veritable scala of trauma's Harkin carried with him: those could easily provide a way into the man's dense psyche.                 
  
The Welshman wouldn't like it, but she wasn't planning on giving him an option. For the good of the investigation, he needed to stay out of this. They'd gotten lucky with Lang, who was never the cleverest of the Agents to begin with. Harkin was a different story all together: he had Ianto and Amy convinced, but she knew, there had to be more.             
  
There always was.      
  
Now, she had taught the others how to unlock a door, she'd given them all the tools to do so, but that didn't mean they could hack into a lock of Angelica's design. All she needed was a bit of time: Harkin would 'fess up, she was sure of it.       
  
Ianto was watching.                  
  
The doors to the cell slid shut.              
          
Angie pressed a button on her Manipulator.                
  
_Party time._  
  
"Harkin." She greeted.             
  
"Ah, there she is! You know, I finally figured out who you are. The grumpy girl from engineering class. Been a while, hasn't it?" The cheerful tone of his voice had a sharp edge to it.                
          
"Sure has. How's life as a rogue Agent going for you?"             
  
"Fabulous! I saw you redecorated. Love the burn marks, by the way."            
  
_He's trying to get to me like I'm trying to get to him._  
  
"Yes. Your friends' work, perhaps? We seem to have a lot of those stopping by these days."

"I noticed that too. How you'd manage to persuade John to play along?" Harkin was trying to divert the attention from Ianto to Lang.       
  
"Oh that one wasn't on me. You'd be surprised how convincing Ianto can be when you let him."       
  
It was code for _he belongs to the Agency now, not you_ and they both knew it.  
  
"Trust me, I know everything about his persuasiveness."       
  
The answer translated to _you might have him, but he and I are still closer than you can ever hope to be.  
_   
"Good, then I'm sure you'll forgive us for letting him peek into your file.-"   
  
And this would be the moment when Ianto started reaching out to interrupt their conversation. Angelica could already hear him cursing at her for using that agreement as bait.         
  
Harkin however, was smart enough to keep his pokerface, despite the subtle twitch of his mouth.           
  
This was going exactly as planned.     
  
"-Surprised? I thought you knew each other so well?"             
  
"Nah, it just seems like an awfully boring way to spend time, seeing as how he knows most of it already. I imagine yours would be much more interesting, or did you tell him about your unique skillset as well?"  
  
 _Crap, he remembers my aiming-disability._  
  
"Of course, friends don't lie to friends."          
  
She let that one sink in for a moment, but before Harkin's impatience could play up, her VM started bleeping.        
  
"Aren't you going to answer that?"    
  
"Nope. It's just my alarm-clock."         
  
She slid her hand to the mute button and managed to look at the last incoming message. From Ianto of course, reading: 'Angelica, stop this. Now!'

She ignored it.

 

* * *

“What’s going on?!” Amy stormed into the room while Ianto was glued to the screen, trying to recall every hacking sequence Angie had ever taught him.

 “I have no idea. She’s off script. She’s trying to break him, or something!”

 “Is it working?” She sat down next to him.

 “So far? No. Jack’s smarter than that. Why is she doing this?” No matter how many times he looked at Angelica’s posture, her movement and her behavior his questions weren’t any closer to getting answered.

 “You know why.”

 “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “It means that maybe if we had told her about our plan, she wouldn’t have made her own.” The guilty look in Amy’s eyes did nothing to soothe his worries.

 “This isn’t…That doesn’t warrant this! What is she trying to prove here!?” There were only so many times he could try the same code.

 “I don’t know, but maybe we should give her a chance.-”

 He only took a moment to give her a look; Amy had gotten adept enough at interpreting them anyway.

 “-Why not? I mean, maybe she knows what she’s doing and if not…Well then, what harm could come from letting her rant at him for a bit. We just need to remember what she said and make sure Jack won’t quote it back on us later.”

 “Because Angelica’s not stable, she locked that door for a reason. I don’t think it’ll stay with just ranting.”

 “Ianto, she’s not carrying a gun.”

 “That doesn’t mean she’s not proficient with other weapons.”        

* * *

 

"So, I suppose you want to talk about this pickle we find ourselves in." Jack asked.  
  
 _Gotcha._  
  
"If you like, I've got plenty of time to spare. But then again, I've heard you do too."                 
  
Another twitch.           
  
"I think I've wasted enough time chasing ghosts. Why don't you show me yours, and I'll show you mine?"            
  
"Oh no, Jax. Have you gone native in the 21th century? That's not how things work around here."  
  
"Why? 'Cause a lady never kisses and tells?"                
  
_Very original, an asexual joke. Go you._  
  
"Because I'm the one who can unlock that door."      
  
_The only one, actually._  
  
"Hmmm, tough, I guess we'll be sitting here until we both wither and die then."  
  
Harkin knew he was mortal, like the others had explained to them. There was either one of two explanations for that. It was wholly possible that Ianto had made the captain mortal with the energy from the rift. Another plausible theory however, was that it had been the parasite's doing all along.   
  
So, to find out which of the two it really was, Angie took a little risk. She grabbed the Captain’s hand, pressed it onto the table and used her pocketknife to cut in it.              
  
Harkin had not seen it coming and could scarcely defend himself before she retracted the weapon. He was strong and she couldn't keep his hand on the table for long. She didn't have to, though. As soon as the deep red gash on his hand began to knit itself together before their eyes, Jax stopped struggling and just looked on, horrified.          
  
The parasite's influence had waned, and Harkin was as immortal as ever.  
  
"Wither and die, huh? Seems to me like you've still got quite some time ahead of you."        
  
"How?!"  
  
"You tell me. How does a fixed point in time get unfixed in the first place?"  
  
"It wasn't...the miracle, somehow it made me...it made me human again."  
  
"The miracle? Everyone's morphic field suddenly goes wonky for no apparent reason? You know better than that. Who's playing the puppeteer here?"  
  
"The parasite?" It was probably supposed to be a snort, but sounded more like a half-sob instead.           
  
"What parasite can undo a fixed point?"         
  
Jax finally seemed to remember that Angelica was trying to fish knowledge out of him. The lost, unfocused eyes were once again staring intently at her.  
  
"The Agency's parasite. That old fairytale, remember? Sucking out your soul and using it to travel through time."             
  
"A power to behold right? Changing time without facing the consequences, something like that could do amazing things: Bring back a loved one, saving lives, unfixing points in time?"           
  
"What are you suggesting?"                  
  
"You know what! Awfully convenient, your friends start dying, suddenly, the whole world's immortal. You don't age for more than two millennia and then from one day to the next you're living a natural life."

Harkin had nothing to say about that, apparently.   

 

* * *

 

“Everybody always blames Jack…why does everybody always have to blame Jack for every shitty thing that happens?!” Ianto hadn’t had the urge to bash in a screen since he was sixteen and very drunk, but right now, he just might have, if not for the fact that they were all holographic.

 Amy had been right though, whatever Angelica was planning (and God, when she reached for that knife, his heart had been in his throat) there might be something to gain from this. So he began scanning for excerpts while keeping an eye on the interrogation.

 “Because he’s a rogue. Angie’s blaming him because he’s a rogue.”

 “Damn it, she wasn’t like this with Hart.”

 “Uh, yeah, she was. It just didn’t stand out as much because you and I were on her side then.”

 "On her side... Oh fuck. She thinks we’ve been compromised. This isn’t about questioning Jack, this is Angie re-experiencing the attack on the Agency and her organs being stolen all at once.”

 "What? This isn’t anything like that.”

 “Don’t you see: Any rogue is going to get her edgy, but a rogue that gets as close to her life as Jack? It’s a perfect recipe for trouble. Trust me; she’s not going to stop unless someone makes her.” This was getting awfully familiar.

 “How do you know?”

 “Because I didn’t, not until Jack took the decision out of my hands and pulled the trigger on the cyberwoman.” Ianto absently noted that it didn’t hurt any more, saying the word. He couldn’t keep thinking about the past, not when there was so much to be done in the here and now.

 “Ah.”

 To distract himself from…everything, he turned back to the transcript writing itself on the screen.

  _The Agency's parasite. That old fairytale, remember? Sucking out your soul and using it to travel through time._

_There!_

“Amy! Look.-”

 The companion reluctantly tore her eyes away from the interrogation playing out to his left.

 “-There. Jack’s using it. He’s quoting our truth. He used up all his knowledge.”

  _“_ Oh! That’s good…right? _”_

“Wouldn’t call it a victory yet, we still need to get Angie out of there.”

 “Hang on. I think something’s happening!”

 

* * *

"I would never-!"

_Just a little further, just push a little harder. He’s cracking already._

"Oh, don't worry, I understand. Imagine it: the ages stretching out in front of you, outliving everyone you meet. Lesser men would've lost it. Hell, even Ianto nearly went overboard when he found out."                 
  
"What! When he found out what?!"         
  
"Another one of those funny things. Your lover dies and boom! A rift leech starts playing with the dead. Then, you get the brilliant idea to blow. Up. The. Fucking. Rift. Fully knowing that an explosion like that would leave a galaxy-sized hole in the universe.-”     
  
She had never told the others about that. It didn't seem relevant back then, and Ianto had been upset enough as it was, but when they found the parasite, saw the effects it had had on humanity, things slowly became crystal clear.            
  
"-Earth would be gone, so would humanity. You would've never even have been born, if not for the fact that your stupidly brave boyfriend took that bomb from your hands and used his very soul to make the energy implode on himself."  
  
Her suspect turned white, swayed unsteadily on his feet and started muttering to himself.                     
  
"Ianto took in the rift...all that energy...Oh God, what have I done?"  
  
That wouldn't do, Angelica needed him to quit the act. She grabbed him by the collar and shook him out of his little spiel.                     
  
"You made a deal with that thing, how else would you have known that earth wouldn't be obliterated!? The circumstances were too specific, only a madman would take a risk that big, but you did. You did it anyway because you knew it would work beforehand!-"            
  
_There's no other way. It's the only rational explanation!_  
  
"-One firm foot into corporeal existence and unlimited quantum energy given to that thing in exchange for everything you ever wanted slowly returned to you, consequences be damned! Rule number one of temporal investigations: always look at the one who benefits the most! That's you, Harkin! It's you!"  
  
The yelling and the shaking had been more trying than she anticipated, so while Jax still stood staring motionless at the walls, Angelica had no choice but to catch her breath. Perhaps though, if she hadn't just used all her energy, she would've seen the threat in Harkin's red rimmed eyes when he said the following:                  
  
"You say this parasite is on the loose, John is boasting that the Agency's gone, which usually means that he’s had a hand in it. Rogue attack, I'm guessing. Going on a limb here, but I think you're blaming them for its escape...-"  
  
He must've seen the truth in her eyes, because he gave her a slip of a smirk.  
  
"But how would they've found it? Most rogues are just field Agents, foot soldiers, in a way. They would hardly know where to look. An experienced archivist or savvy engineer however, might figure it out. Things like that happened at Torchwood all the time.-"       
  
_Is he serious?_  
  
"-If the Agency was attacked, how far would you go to protect it? How far would the dedicated men and women go to preserve its knowledge? Perhaps someone, a clever, loyal person decided that a kamikaze attack was the only way to win. Leave the remaining Agents to clear up the mess afterwards-"  
  
"No. No! That's impossible!"    
  
"-They could have, and they would have. Don't kid yourself, Vex, the Time Agency always valued itself above the lives of others. The odds of an Agent trying to use your enemy as a weapon are far greater than some poor sucker accidently running into a deep, dark secret like that during a raid."  
  
She was stunned, literally. Her thought processes simply stopped for a moment to reroute all attention to his suggestions.    
  
That was a mistake. Harkin turned around, grabbed her by the neck and singlehandedly removed the knife from her person. The way he whispered in her ear, drove home the fact that she was very, very helpless right now.  
 _  
And the others can't hack into a lock of my design. You're an idiot, Angie, a fucking idiot._  
  
"All Time Agents pretend to be so damn virtuous, but you know as well as I do that this whole organization was drunk on power and mad with greed. Time Agents stole children, they murdered innocents and they did whatever their slimy bosses paid them to do. Half of the recruits in our year were stone cold killers before they even became part of Agency. If anyone deserved to go down, it was them."                  
  
Either anger or panic made Angelica kick Harkin in his stomach, and with another stroke of luck she managed to twist lose from his grip. She pressed the button on her manipulator, sprinted out the door and locked it before he could follow.                 
                    
The interrogation was officially over and Harkin hadn't admitted to the crime.   
  
_He didn't deny it either though..._  
  
Before she could properly catch her breath, Ianto came stalking down the hall. Followed by a worried Amy.             
  
"What in God's name were you doing in there!?"  
  
And that shot the fire right back into her.                   
  
"What you didn't have the guts to do! We needed to pressure him! He wouldn't have told us anything!"                    
  
"We had a plan!"       
  
"A plan based on your skewed perceptions of the man. It. Wouldn't. Have. Worked. Look at the evidence Ianto, Look at how conveniently Jack's luck changed..."  
  
"Yes, yes, I heard you in there. But I am not the one who needs to look at their perceptions. If you were so damn sure it was Jack, then you should have told us…"                
  
"That is rich coming from you!" She roared and made a move to walk away from it all. Unfortunately, Ianto had other thoughts on the subject and grabbed her by the upper arm. It wasn't particularly rough and on a rational level she knew that this was nothing like Harkin but in the end, her instincts won the battle and she began thrashing in his grip.     
  
“Don’t you walk away. We. Are. Not. Done. Look at me. I said, Look at me!...C'mon, there. Thank you."          
  
Angie only half focused on the spot behind his ear.                    
  
"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.-"     
  
_He isn’t, he can’t..._ she thought and squirmed again.                 
  
"- but look at what you’re doing! This isn’t right! The people who hurt you are not in that room, neither are the people who destroyed this Agency. Blaming Jack is not going bring your friends back." 

For a second, Angelica turned to the holoscreen near the door. There, through the gritty pixels, she could make out a hunched figure sitting on one of the chairs. He looked nothing like the demons from her dreams. 

_Just a guy. Trapped, powerless and vulnerable._

A cold chill seeped into her bones, and all of the sudden she was tired again. Why had she been so angry? It didn’t make sense. 

_What have I done?_

“Nothing that can’t be forgiven eventually.” Ianto answered before Angie even realized that she said that last part out loud.

He didn’t sound mad though, hurt and stern, definitely. But not angry. Even though the notion took several seconds to sink in, when it did, Angie managed to finally, properly, look him in the eyes again.  
  
 _Why aren't you mad at me?  
_

“If he’s guilty, he’s guilty and I won’t take his side if that’s the case, but it’s too easy to just pick him out of a line up because of who he is. Now, I think neither of us is very reliable when it comes to Jack.-"       
  
At least they could agree on that.              
  
"- So you and I are going to stay away from him and this investigation until he's found innocent or...guilty."                  
  
Slowly, she managed to nod, relieved that he was at least admitting a possible threat. 

"Now, you’ve made a mistake here, a big one, do you realize that?"      
  
She nodded again.  
  
 _I got too involved, I took too many risks, next time I'll do better..._  
  
“We need to deal with this properly, or it’s just going to escalate again. You need to talk about this to someone who's more qualified than I am. Amy?-"  
  
The redhead squeaked in surprise.           
  
"-How much experience does Rory have in psychology?"        
  
"Last I checked he'd done two courses, or something like that."               
  
Ianto seemed to consider that before muttering "Well, can't be worse than Owen." And continued:  
  
"Are you alright with that? Talking to Rory? Because I'm not sure I can trust you like this."     
  
"I don’t suppose you should, trust me, that is."     

“Right, well, Angie?"                    
  
"Yeah Ianto?"             
  
"Just...try to treat him like a human being next time, please?"                   
  
"Why? They never showed me the same courtesy."                  
  
Finally, he let her go, and without further ado she practically ran towards the lab. Machines were always much simpler than people anyway.

 

* * *

 

This was a thoroughly strange place, Rory soon decided.         
  
After Amy's very warm welcome (even now, the memory of it was enough to fully distract him) they'd mostly left him to his own devices.  
  
Angelica, nice woman, perhaps a bit frosty, had shown him the medical facilities before practically fleeing from it. He'd spent most of that first morning playing around with futuristic toys (surgeon's tools, really, he nearly removed his appendix on accident), figuring out which objects he could use and which were far beyond his level of expertise. The latter outweighed the former by a landslide, but eventually he gathered enough doodads for a reasonable first aid kit.               
  
He'd gone exploring the rest of the facilities later that day, steadily ignoring that dreadful pit in his stomach and the horrors of Cowbridge. It was strange to think that he'd once been immortal, that he had lived an entire life without Amy. Most parts had become a distant memory by now. Sure, he could access them but, as with the centurion-memories, Rory hardly felt the connection anymore. 

Until he remembered Maria’s maimed face, that always made things real again. 

_It isn’t fair, I get Amy back, but Maria’s kids and husband will never see her again.  
_

Keeping that in mind, his feet brought him to the cellblock where’d they’d left the others last night. 

_She’s in here. The woman who did all that. She’s in one of these rooms…  
_

He had recognized her instantly, the face forever burned in his memory. It had taken a lot not to physically respond to her presence back in California, but he’d managed. Though, if he was truly honest with himself, watching Amy scuffle her to the ground was quite cathartic.

The armed nurse, Gwen Cooper, he now remembered, had been screaming about her husband and kid and how they had to be safe.

_Rhys and Anwen._

The truck driver and his daughter. He felt stupid for worrying over the man now: he’d most likely made it out alive and well, since his wife was the one blowing shit up.

_She kept yelling about her family, but never once considered those of others when she pulled the trigger back there._

He wanted to talk to her, but at the same time, not at all. It was difficult to explain. What would he say to her? Would he scold a complete stranger for doing things he only half understood?

_People died. That’s what matters. Good, honest people. Innocent people too. That’s what matters._

Rory felt another panic attack building up, and sat down against a large window to clear his mind.

_They’re not dead. Not really. Once the timelines are fixed Maria will be happily back with her family, never having had to protect her kids against the government in the first place._

Did that change things? He wondered. Is a murder less incriminating if the victim can be brought back later on? If you can just erase the pain? Rory decided it really wasn’t. Not when the perpetrator had knowingly and willingly planned a terrorist attack, like Cooper had.

_Why, though? What could she possibly have wanted to gain from it?_

By now, Rory had walked back to the room he shared with Amy and when he opened the door, his wife was sitting on the bed, mirroring his worried expression to a tee.

“Hey.-” He pecked her on the lips and sat down next to her “-What’s wrong?”

“Ughh, it’s Angie and Ianto, I really, really hate them right now.”

“I thought they were your friends?”

“They are. Yeah, no, definitely my friends. They’re just…stupid friends right now.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that.

“So, what they’d do?” She threw her arms around him and gave a heavy tired sigh, before telling all about it in muffled tones against his shoulder.

“-stupid idiots. They don’t talk to each other. First Ianto goes off and has me share info with Jack that Angelica doesn’t know of, then Angie turns right around and verbally strangles Jack with his own issues. Which of course pushed some major buttons with Ianto and then that exploded, and now they want you to talk to her professionally.”

That was a bit worrisome, maybe he would need to go back to the medbay and break out those psychology classes after all. First though, his wife needed some undivided attention.

“What were they trying to do then?

“Well, I’m pretty sure Angie was just working out some old issues while Ianto was trying to get in touch with Jack without actually getting in touch with him. If that even makes sense.-”

Rory looked at her for a moment, knowing that Amy was just blowing off some steam now, rather than telling the facts.

“-It’s really one big clusterfuck of problems and seriously, when did I become the most sane person of this group? Of any group? How do these people even function!?-”

She took another deep breath, counted to ten out loud and continued.

“-No. It’s…We were trying to figure out if Jack was the one who’s responsible for the Miracle. So the poor guy gets stuck between Ianto’s push-and-pull attitude and Angie’s mental terror, I don’t even care if he did it or not, I feel sorry for him anyway.”

“Alright, what’s the evidence, maybe I can help?”

She pulled out a tablet and showed him what they had so far.

“-Angie’s argument is basically that the captain was at the right place, at the right time, had the motive and has been benefiting the most since this whole thing began a few weeks ago. Ianto on the other hand wants concrete evidence before he-”

“Hang on. That’s not right.”

“What do you mean it’s not right? I was there!” Amy grumbled.

“No, I mean, the Miracle, it didn’t start a few weeks ago. It’s been going on for years now.”

“Huh?!” He heard her answer, in the distance, since he was already digging through their laundry. It was a good thing both Rory and Amy were slobs, otherwise they might have accidently washed away an important piece of evidence. His bloody rags were easily identifiably between Amy’s white shirts and pants, and before long, he was triumphantly clutching the engineering Jacket Maria had given him.

“This! Read it!”

It took Amy less than ten seconds to figure it out, and when she did, her entire face lit up in victory.

“You! C’mere you! I need to kiss you, as in. Now!” She jumped up, threw herself into his arms for the second time that day and proceeded to snog the living daylights out of him, like she promised.

In retrospect, Rory would admit they got a bit carried away, because he was wearing nothing but his underpants and Amy had lost a shirt and bra when they figured out it was probably best to share their findings with the others as soon as possible.

 

* * *

Angie still looked shattered and Ianto had already progressed to broody when Amy called them to the control room.

_Whatever, I’m just glad you two haven’t killed each other yet._

“Look guys, we found.-” then she realized it had really been Rory’s doing. “-Wait, You found it, you should tell it.”

“Ah nah, I’m good, you know the details better than I do.”

“Seriously, you should, I’m not taking all the credit-”

Ianto cleared his throat and glared at her.

“-Okay, fine, I’ll do it. Alright, so Angie, we found a flaw in your reasoning.-” That was probably the wrong thing to say, because the Agent’s face went from vaguely scowling to deadly in o-point-five-seconds. “-You keep saying that Jack has been getting what he wants too much lately, yeah?-”

Angie nodded warily.

“Yes, you did. Now, I told Rory this, and he said, ‘Well, that’s not right’ and I said ‘Why not?’. Actually, I don’t think I exactly said that, it was more something like…”

Ianto gave her another bitchface.

“-Right, moving on. Basically, Rory then showed me this!” She held up the smudged papers. “Now, he found this in Cowbridge.”

“That’s uh, a research facility on the Miracle, in case you’re wondering.” Her husband added.

“And here, among other places, it says this on February the twelfth of 2006 ‘We’ve been going over the test results over and over again. There doesn’t seem to be any coherent connection to the anomalies in the atmosphere, they just started appearing a few months ago. So far, we’ve been unable to find anyone whose biochemistry isn’t keeping up with the slow changes observed’ and look, in here- _”_ She pulled out a few results. “-they’re all consistent with the Miracle. In 2006! That’s five years ago!”

She happily watched two pairs of eyes grow to the size of saucers. Angie snatched the papers from her and began searching through them. Ianto was looking over her shoulder to keep tabs.

_Oh, so now they suddenly can work together again._

“She’s right, all of these datasets, they’re describing morphic fields. Changing morphic fields.” Angie mumbled, while Ianto plucked out another piece of the journal.

“‘There have been suggestions that we should perhaps round up Torchwood’s captain, since his bloodcells are relatively irresponsive to the changes in the air and related to ours.’ This was written mere weeks before the hub was blown up. Before my death, before Stephen’s death, if he’d had the parasite, he could’ve prevented it. Hell, he could’ve stopped Tosh and Owen from dying too.”

“Also, if Harkin’s morphic field wasn’t changing with the others, he can’t have been the first to contact the parasite. In fact, if I’m reading this correctly, he was the last.” Angie turned to Ianto. “I owe you another apology, he really is innocent.”

Ianto gave her a tired smile. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” And then tapped on the holoscreen showing their prisoners.

“Well, fuck.” Was the blonde’s only response.

“Is there any more of this?” Ianto asked Amy, who then automatically looked to Rory.

“Ah, no. Unfortunately, it all got blown up along with the facility.”

Angie cursed loudly and beckoned Rory over to the control panel, before sitting down herself.

“Alright, let’s see if we can retrace some of that information digitally. Can you remember the names of any of the other files?” 

“Ehmm, let’s see…There was the one-” 

From the looks of it, Rory, or at least Angie, would be busy digging through that mess for the next couple of hours. Ianto however, wasn’t paying attention to the investigation anymore, he was back to staring absently at the holoscreens in the corner. Amy walked over to him, and rested her arm on his shoulder. 

“So, I did good?”

“Hmmmmm? Yes. Certainly. This…it’s great. We can let him go, then. Just…”

“How do we tell him that?” 

“Yep.” 

She glanced at the feed of Jack’s cell. The man was sitting on the bed, resting his head in his hands, looking about as stressed as her Welsh friend. Amy wasn’t sure what to say to that, wasn’t sure if there was anything that could be said and the longer silence held on, the less sure she began to feel about it.

_Does he want to go in and tell him? Or does he want me to do it? What if he wants to keep him there a little longer? Would that even be right?_

“Do you…” Ianto began, only to stop again. He tried two more times, turning his head a bit and fidgeting with his hands. “It’s been…Do you think I should keep this professional?”

“Keep what professional?”

He gave her a ‘you’re hopeless’ look.

“This talk. I haven’t seen him in a long time, and it could’ve been centuries for him…” 

“Wait. Are you actively asking me for advice?”

“Never mind, forget I said anything. This was obviously a bad idea.”

“Oh nonono, get back here, you asked me something. Now we get to talk about it. That’s what people do, you know? They communicate.”

Ianto sighed, but gave her silent permission to continue anyway.

“Okay. So, you guys haven’t seen each other in a long time and that complicates matters, but! Your girl Gwen in there didn’t mention that he was seeing someone new, right?”

“That doesn’t really mean much. He has a habit of leaving out the important parts of his life and she never read much into his stories anyway.”

“So, there’s only one person who knows what’s been going on…”

“…And that’s him, right. Got it.” The tone of his voice suggested that she hadn’t helped him at all.

“Look, you’re good at subtle. Just start of professional and, I don’t know, give him a few openings. Like ‘Well, Cap’n ‘Arkness, you’ve been freed of all charges, is there anyone we ought to inform of your impending release?’ or some such.-” Amy did a valiant attempt at a Ianto-impression, and that, if nothing else, made him smile a little.“-Just…Remember how I told you to tie him to a chair if that’s what it takes to get things sorted?”

“hmmmhmmm.”

“Well, he’s not going to get much more ‘tied to a chair’ than he is now. So, get him into one of the interrogation rooms and talk to him until you two understand each other.”

Ianto gave her another small smile and, as they stood there watching the screens, Amy couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on in that clever brain of his.

 


	21. Somewhere beyond the pain.

* * *

 

_Time Agency, ----._

He was nervous.

So bloody nervous.

In fact, Ianto wagered he hadn’t been this nervous since deciding to blow up the rift. 

_And look how well that went._

“Go in, Jones. Don’t be a fucking girl, just get your arse in there. This cannot possibly go worse than the last time you two tried to have a conversation about relationships.” He murmured, mostly to himself. 

Amy had been kind enough to escort Jack to the interrogation room again while Ianto had been rehearsing at least ten different speeches at the same time, every one of them even worse than the last. Then she had come in to escort _him_ to the room as well, because ‘if I don’t, you’ll hole yourself up in here all day’ which was absolutely rubbish. It wouldn’t have taken all day, honestly. Maybe an hour, two at most.

 _Who are you trying to fool here?_

“Just go in, apologize and…” 

That was really the only solid part of his plan: Apologize for Angelica’s crazy. After that things ranged from simply showing Jack the case file to snogging the man until neither of them wanted to talk about anything anymore.

_Brilliant, five years of Torchwood training and the best diplomatic solution you can come up with is jumping his bones. Yvonne Hartman would be proud._

In the end, he pressed the door switch almost unconsciously. Sure, his thoughts were still racing at a mile a minute, but none of them were even closely related to ‘press button’. 

But there it was, and so, all of the sudden he was looking straight into Jack’s way too blue eyes.

“Hi.” His voice, apparently he’d spoken first.

“Hey?” There were a lot of emotions in the answer: Surprise, sadness, hope, fear and many many other things that were flying right past Ianto’s brain at the moment.

_All right now._

_This is your chance._

_Don’t say anything stupid.  
_

“You...emh, you okay?”

_Yep. That would be stupid…_

“Yeah, sure, peachy.” Ianto did not like the way Jack averted his eyes when he spoke. He’d expected it, given Angie´s veritable shitstorm, but it still left a sense dread in the pit of his stomach. Sitting down, he could practically see Amy pushing at his back, giving him a look and a few choice words to get him started.

“I-I wanted to apologize for Angelica, she’s..well, she wasn’t in her right mind, post-traumatic stress disorder trying to work itself out through you, we’re trying to-”

“Areyouimmortal?” Jack rattled out.

“Come again?”

“Are you immortal?”

“Oh, God, no!-” Trust Captain Harkness to shoot his carefully rehearsed speech to hell in less than three seconds. “-Not…not that there’s anything wrong with that, but no, definitely mortal.”

_Is this what rambling feels like?_

The captain released a long sigh and sat back in his chair, idly scratching shapes in the tabletop and carefully glancing up at Ianto every so often. The words came flowing so easily a moment ago, whereas now, his entire vocabulary seemed to have thrown itself out of a window.

“What happened? When you…died?” Perhaps it was the lighting, but he could’ve sworn Jack’s eyes were treacherously damp when he said it.

“Well, a rift leech used my soul cross over to Cardiff, you know this, and then someone handed me a bomb to blow it up and ten minutes later, I woke up here. Guns, clothes and all.”

“How?”

“Apparently I simply regenerated myself using the energy of the rift.”

 

* * *

Jack was beginning to understand why that blonde-haired bitch had suspected him. Ianto returning alive and well the way he did was nothing short of a miracle. Had he been younger, then perhaps Jack would’ve thanked every God in the known universe for finally listening to him, but really, it was only Ianto who had done so.

All by himself.

Jones, Ianto Jones from Cardiff, Wales had pulled a stunt that was nothing short of Time Lord worthy.

“Are you alright?...Jack?”

He’d been too wrapped up in his own emotions to notice that Ianto was saying something. On top of that, it had been a very long time since anyone had asked him that earnestly. So long in fact, that Jack wasn’t really sure what to answer.

“I-I don’t know, actually.”

True to form, his…lover? Friend? Colleague? Didn’t respond to that, just stayed quiet and waited for Jack to work himself out.

“A lot of stuff happened while you were gone.-”

_I knew things no-one else knew and I felt so special,_

“-Things got somewhat complex,-”

_And when we lost people, it was so, so big and I could say it was worth it, ‘Cause the bigger it was,_

“-but I think, that maybe,-”

_The more people we lost, the more that meant I was a survivor and I was better than them._

_“-_ I’ve been a bit lonely. _”_

He barely managed to choke out that last part and there was something not right with the ventilation, because Jack was having trouble breathing.

“Oh Christ…” That was Ianto, sounding worried. He was just going by voice, since looking up clearly wasn’t an option.

A hand grabbed his own, and damn it, there was definitely something wrong here: His eyes were watering. There was a scrape of a chair, and suddenly two arms were wrapped around him.

“Jesus, what happened to you? How on earth did it come to this?” Again, Ianto’s voice, muttering in his ear now. Ianto’s arms around his back and neck. Ianto’s hands carding through his hair.

_I am definitely not going anywhere soon._

He snorted through his, yes, tears, he figured it out, at the fact that that was the only thing coming to mind.

So, they stayed still for a while, Jack not letting go, Ianto holding on to him and both just breathing. He really had no idea what to say and the Welshman had never been much for words anyway. When Jack finally felt like coming back to the real world again, he snuck a peek at Ianto, who was, incidently, looking right back at him.

“Alright, That’s it. We are getting out of here. Talking can wait.”

He considered giving in and letting Ianto hide them away from the world until it started looking better but if he let this slide, he'd have to deal with the whole situation later.             
  
_So, now it is_.                 
  
"No, wait hang on. I, uh, assume you came here with a reason. Not that I'm complaining." It was easier talking like this, from the crook of the other man's shoulder.  
  
"Oh yeah, that. Congratulations, you're innocent."    
  
" Really? Me? Innocent? Who'd have guessed?" It was meant to be a sorry attempt at a joke, but turned into something completely different when Ianto whispered "I would've." back at him.           
  
"I know."        
  
The Welshman took one more appraising look at Jack, before letting go of him just a little bit.            
  
"You good?"                 
  
"Yeah, I'm good."       
  
Reluctantly, he backed off completely. The chair, however, was dragged from the other end of the table, to right next to him, before Ianto sat down again and visibly composed himself.           


* * *

He was utterly shocked. What had gone wrong? How was it possible that Jack had reacted so visceral to such a simple question? The man had always been dealt a bad hand when it came to life, but never stopped laughing it off. He would stare death down with a smile and a wink. Practically inviting it in.

Even when he shouldn’t.

It was frightening, how readily Jack jumped in front of every bullet, even the ones that were definitely not worth jumping for. _  
_

_So willing to leave everything behind._

At some point in their relationship, Ianto had stopped fearing for Jack’s life, it was a bare necessity when it came to living with the man. What scared him though, was the fact that the captain seemed so desperate to go. 

Ianto didn’t fear for Jack’s life anymore, but always worried whether or not he would still find a reason to return.

What had given him hope was the fact that Jack loved so freely. He firmly believed that as long as there were people around, Jack would be fascinated by them and because of that, would find a reason to keep going.

_Apparently, I was wrong._

“Tell me, then.”

“Tell you what?”

“Anything, everything. What happened, where you’ve been, how you felt, who you flirted with? God help me, I want to hear every horrible anecdote about it. ” 

“Why?”

Since when did Jack need a reason to talk? It was frustrating to see that they were right back to revolving around subjects instead of actually working them out.

“Because it’s a starting point? Because perhaps then we’ll talk about what’s wrong here? Because apparently that’s how relationships work? Maybe? I don’t know…Jesus, I am horrible at this shit!” he put his head in his hands and groaned.

A part of Ianto wanted to glare when Jack had the audacity to laugh, but the bigger part was very, very glad to see him smile again.

“Do you really think that would work?” The captain asked, still not quite serious, and it took a moment for Ianto to formulate an answer besides the obvious lies of “Yes” and “No”.

“Perhaps. I know we’ve never tried it before.” 

And just like that, the mood went south again.

“That’s not true, we talked plenty of times. You know more about me than anyone else in the damn universe does.” Jack snarled.

“I realize that and trust me, I never meant to diminish it. But we never talked about _us._ What that meant. I’m not talking about labels, or stupid petty fights we had. I’m talking about the way we always tried to keep each other at arm’s length.”

“I’m not sure…” 

It was a strange reversal of roles, usually Jack was the one who kept the conversation going, but Ianto found that in this instance, he couldn’t seem to stop talking. Maybe the whole dying thing had left a permanent impression on him after all, or maybe it was Amy’s fault for nudging him into ‘communicating’ or maybe he’d just had enough of it all.

“D’you want me to start? Alright, fine. I’ll start. I love you, I really do, I don’t give a damn that you’re immortal, everyone’s got issues. I came back once, I’ll bloody well do it as many times as I have to in order to be with you. I’m not even afraid to admit that now. Back then, I pushed you away because I wasn’t sure if I was ready to move on with my life. Torchwood three was my purgatory. For the longest time I thought I hadn’t survived Canary Wharf, not really. The only reason to keep going was to redeem myself. Even if Lisa had been cured back then, my life would’ve still been over.- ”

This wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d imagined it would be. 

“-But she died, and then you convinced me to keep going, if only to make sure other people wouldn’t end up like I did. I was alive, but not living. Then, bit by bit, stuff began piecing itself together again. I found friends, a lover and a purpose in my own personal limbo. And if I admitted that I wanted a life with you, then it would mean abandoning that place, and I was afraid to. It was easier to just stay where I was, then to venture into the unknown. It took my own death to realize that moving on was what I wanted, and when I finally figured it all out, I got stuck in this fucking place for a whole fucking year!”

There. It was done. Every issue he had brought into their relationship was bleeding out on the table.

_Christ, I could use a drink right now._

 

* * *

_You love me?_

_I love you too._

_Why would you want to keep coming back?_

_I thought you convinced me._

_You were scared too?_

These were some of the things Jack had wanted to say, things he’d been thinking while Ianto took one hell of an emotional leap forward in their discussion.

Instead, his cowardly mind latched onto the least threatening aspect of the conversation.

“A year?” 

“Yes. Amy, Angelica and I have been trapped out here for 372 days. By now, I’m not even sure if this is my home, or if it’s still back on earth, or neither.”

Jack decided that the best way to deal with the situation was probably to get incredibly drunk, but since these rooms most likely weren’t accommodated to alcohol, he decided to turn off his brain instead and let his heart try for once.

“With me. Your home is with me.-”

He turned his eyes back to the table and took a deep breath. If he so much as looked at Ianto, he wouldn’t be able to go through with this. 

“-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. There’s not a moment when I’m not sorry for bringing people into my life. It’s a mess and half the time I don’t even understand why it is. It’s not even recent, because I lost my family long before I lost my mortality. The worst part is that even when I prepare myself, it still catches me by surprise. Everyone I care about ends up dead, so I keep them away. I love ‘em and leave ‘em before they can do the same to me, or I just forgo the whole thing altogether. You got too close, so I pushed, and then you pushed back and then somehow I ended up loving you anyway. And you accepted that, even though I never told you so much as my name.”

“You did. In your own way, you tried to tell me as much as you could.”

“It’s not fair to you though, is it? Everyone gets to grow old with someone, and all you’ve got is me.”

“Hey, what did I just say, I don’t care about that.” Ianto was doing that whole calming voice thing of his.

 _God, if only things were that simple._  
  
“I know, I know that now and I don’t think I could let you walk away anymore, not even if I wanted to. But I can’t do this again. I can’t grieve over another dead lover, do you understand that? There are so many graves out there with people I wanted to spend my life with. If I have to say goodbye to one more, if I get stuck in the dark alone again, I’ll go mad. ”

“But you’re not alone, you never are. Even when I’m gone, there’ll be others, friends who can help you.”

“No there aren’t. There hasn’t been anyone who gave a rat’s ass these past years, so don’t tell me what it’s like!” Jack finally found enough anger in himself to look up again.

“Is that because no-one cared or because you wouldn’t let them?” The tone is not judgemental; it’s a genuine question that hammers home so many problems.

“I…I…I tried, okay? I tried to stay with Gwen, wanted to connect to her but it didn’t work. I can’t do that anymore.”

Ianto just snorted at that.

“It’s Gwen, Jack. The woman has deep longing connections with every stranger in range for about five seconds before moving on to something more impressive. The people that do stick around long enough just become accessories to her grand adventures.-”

Suddenly, he remembered Esther, asking him whether or not he wanted coffee. Had that been it? If he hadn’t sent her away, would she have cared?

“-Look, there are plenty of people out there who could care, and even if there weren’t…Well, you know Amy, right? And Rory, the military chap, you saw him too?”

Jack nodded.

“Rory died once, then got erased from time itself and then died _again_ when the universe was rewritten. From what I understand, he’s not immortal and the Doctor was only peripherally involved in his resurrections. Amy herself managed to go ‘round the bend once, Rory waited for 2000 years until she was born again and a younger version could bring her back. What I’m trying to say is, there are a million ways for me to come back even after I die again. Worst comes to worst, you break into the damn TARDIS, open the heart and bring me back like you.”

“No. You can’t be like me!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s horrible!”

“Only if you’re alone. Quite frankly I think it would save us both a lot of pain and effort in coming up with new ways to survive.”

“Ianto, you don’t understand what you’re saying! There is no cure for this, there’s no way to undo it.”

“Says who? A half demented Time Lord? Excuse me if I’m not going to take the word of a man whose habits include breaking the universe every other month or so.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not, but I want to do what I believe is right in the here and now, because if I don’t then I’ll die with regrets again and I can tell you, the worst thing about dying permanently is knowing how many chances you’ve missed.”

His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He wanted to believe that Ianto would be the one that never left. He wanted it so bad.

“Nothing lasts, you’d start hating me-”

The Welshman gave him his ‘Are you kidding me?’ look. Jack instantly recalled the last time Ianto had given him that one: Something involving grease-stains and century old archive files. The stains were gone, so were the files, but somehow, the two of them were still here.

“Nothing lasts, says the man who lives forever.”

“What if, after a while, you don’t want to come back anymore?”

_Come on, Jones, do it. Find me a reason to believe in this._

“Then I hereby give you permission to bring me back anyway and then argue until I do want to stay again.”

Jack realized he was beginning to smile; it was probably small and insignificant as far as smiles went, but Ianto would notice. He always did.

 

* * *

_Oh, so you’re playing coy again, huh?_

He knew this Jack, the one who liked to pretend that he wasn’t serious, but whose heart was hanging by a thread. If there was ever a moment to say the right thing, this was it.

“Is that a promise?”

“Yep.”

“Sure? Forever’s a long time.”

Captain Harkness, asking for confirmation to drive his fears away.

“Jack, I promise you that I’ll stay with you for the rest of your life, however long that may be. Now, can you promise me to remember that the next time you think about pushing me away again?” 

“I do, I promise.”

_There, sorted.  
_

He was feeling a strange kind of happiness, the kind he hadn’t felt since before the tower fell. It was the firm belief that everything would be alright eventually and he was sure there was a stupid grin on his face for it.

So there they were, sitting, staring at each other and smiling like idiots when the captain managed to ruin the moment in the most spectacular way possible.

“Ianto?”

“Hmmmhmm?”

“Did we just unofficially get engaged?”

“Oh bollocks, there’ll be no shutting up Amy now.”

He could forgive Jack though, because right after that, the man just as spectacularly snogged his brains out and Ianto wasn’t about to deny himself that genuine pleasure.

 

* * *

“Aaaaaaaaaahhh!!!” Amy shrieked and Angie immediately looked up from her work.

“What? What is it?!”

“It’s Ianto and Jack! They love each other-” but Angelica had already lost interest.

“Gods, that? Really? I thought you were having a seizure or something.”

“You don’t understand! It’s amazing! I’m so proud of my boy.” There were tears in her eyes. 

“And you know you’re not supposed to watch that, right?”

“Oh shut up, like he’s never invaded anyone’s privacy.-” She settled in front of the holoscreen again. “-Do we have popcorn?”

Angie sighed and walked up to Amy’s corner of the control room.

“Hang on, are they taking off their shirts?!”

“You betcha, this is gonna be good.”

“Not in my interrogation room, it’s not!” The Time Agent pulled up three tabs, filled in some cryptic code, pressed a button and a few seconds later, alarms began to go off. When Amy looked back at the screen again, there were sprinklers activating throughout the room.

 

* * *

Ianto had barely dragged him up against the table when a screaming noise shocked them both out of their reverie.

“What the…” Jack managed to utter, before cold, horrible water was falling from the ceiling.

“Apparently, we have an audience.-” The Welshman turned to the camera, gave it a two finger salute and barked “-Angie! Turn that shit off! I know it was you!”

“God, I really, really hate that bitch.” Jack groaned and rested his head on the other man’s shoulder.

The sprinklers slowly deactivated themselves again while Ianto was pressing kisses behind his ear, the intent was gone though, replaced by an imminent danger of being hosed again.

“Hmmmm, you about ready to get out of here?” his partner, _might as well go with that word_ , asked.

“Oh yeah. Definitely. I’d ask you ‘your place or mine?’ but since mine is a prison cell with a single bed, I´m suggesting yours.”

“Yep. Mine, that’s good.-”

It seemed they were falling right back into their own habits of talking a lot and a little again. He didn’t have much time to contemplate further speech abnormalities though, because Ianto was already halfway out the door.

“-Come along, then.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

And so they went. Up the stairs, through the teleporter (funny, Jack had never made out with someone in there before), down the hallway and into an officer's quarters, keeping a sort-of-maybe-kind-of respectable distance from each other. However, the moment the door slid shut, Ianto pushed him up against the wall and they were right back where they left off.

For a while, the two of them just enjoyed the wet slides of their tongues together. Then, jack moved on to his lover's neck and Ianto roamed his hands through the older man's hair murmuring something about how much he'd missed this.             
  
Jack really wasn't paying attention to the words anymore.   
  
Instead, he maneuvered them both to the bed, nearly tripping over each other’s shoes in the process to move on to the real fun.

Despite freezing in soaking wet clothes and stumbling over almost every unfortunate piece of furniture in the room. This, _this_ was like coming home.   
  
Ianto seemed to remember exactly where and how to touch him, what to do to drive him off the edge. But Jack would be lying if he didn't admit that there wasn't a strange sort of fragility to it as well. The same kind that had held them both in a chokehold after the year that never was. There were differences though. They knew each other now, the Welshman had lost all his skittish decorum over time and he himself had figured out that other people just weren't going to compare to his lover.                 
  
_You are not bringing up that bartender thing now._  
  
The sounds and scents that surrounded him in the bed, no, scratch that, Ianto's bed, no, scratch _that_ , their bed (he had every intention of dubbing all beds from now on 'their bed') were nothing short of perfect. The whole process of getting rid of clothes took him right back to those rare moments three years ago, when he could convince himself that they were a normal couple who'd grow old together.  
  
 _We may never grow old, but I'll be damned if we're not going to be together._

Though, in the end they never even managed to get all their garments off before letting go: simply moving against each other and creating wonderful kinds of friction was enough to do the trick for now, half sex-starved as they were.  
  
 _Too long, it's really been too long._  
  
Much, much later, when they were both lying on the bed, panting and laughing breathlessly at the beauty of it all, Jack managed to find his voice again.  
  
"Hi. Wow. So, this talking thing.-" he sort of waved between him and Ianto "- We are definitely doing that more often from now on." He looked at his partner, who just smiled that happy smile of his and answered:  
  
"Oh yeah."           
  
And that pretty much summed up the conversation of the night.  



	22. Where is the edge?

* * *

 

_Cardiff, 2006.  
  
It's pouring outside, and once those special investigation tosspots leave the scene, you're drenched to the bone. It takes the CSI-whatsits-folks at least another five hours to secure whatever evidence wasn't washed out by the rain.   
  
You wonder what it would be like, to be able to hop back into your warm SUV after only 30 minutes of work. It's not fair, the way everyone else has it better than you. How they get to live their exciting lives while you're stuck handing out parking tickets and coffee.          
  
"Cap'n says we're done here. Time to go back and find out if my toes haven't frozen off yet." He says with a smile, but you're definitely not feeling it.  
  
"Right then. Drive me home?"              
          
"Drive you home? In what exactly?! I don't have a car."          
  
Neither do you, but you're nothing if not resourceful.              
  
"We could take a squad car."               
  
"Oh I get it. And then you expect me to drop you off, bring the car back to station and walk home twice as long. Yeah, I like you, but not that much.  
  
" 'Course not, you could just keep it overnight."          
  
"Are you mad!? I'm not going commit grand theft police car just because you're too lazy to take a ten minute walk."       
  
"Come on! It'll be exciting."    
  
"My balls are freezing off, woman, I'm not exactly up for exciting. You know what, I'll walk you home, that way you'll at least have some company."  
  
"Oh piss off, you just want to get in my pants again."             
  
"Fine, have it your way. See you tomorrow."                
  
He walks off, leaving you swearing on the curb. You decide to call your boyfriend, because surely, he'd be more accommodating.            
  
"Yeah?" He answers, sounding groggy. When you ask him to come and pick you up, he responds that it's a lot of hassle. This leads to an all too familiar argument. Eventually ending with him turning off his phone.              
  
"Sweetheart, if you'd spend all that time walking instead of whining, you'd be home by now.”           
  
You yell on long after he's hung up and wonder what the hell happened to chivalry. Just as you do however, an umbrella is placed over your head.  
  
"You look like you could use a hand." Your first instinct is to kick the creeper that decided to harass you now, of all times. But then it turns out to be a handsome young man with a friendly face, and you come to the conclusion that whatever, this guy can't be worse than the others in your life.  
  
"Thanks love."             
  
"Having a bad day?"                
  
"Like you wouldn't believe!"                  
  
"I'd call you a cab, but they seem to have taken the night off."            
  
"Oh, don't worry, just walk with me for a bit. I could use the company." If he turns out to be a creep after all, well, you're not carrying a taser and pepperspray for nothing.          
  
"Sure." It's an honest smile and probably the best thing that's happened all night. It’s magical really, one moment you’re miserable and alone in the rain, the next you’re having lovely conversations with beautiful strangers.  
  
"Stop it! I'm just a rookie! I couldn't do all that investigations stuff." You're laughing at his suggestion.                   
  
"Of course you can! Some people are just born talented. I think a squad like that would be lucky to have you." The man says while the two of you walk onto the Roald Dahl Plass.          
  
"You really think so?" It'd be nice, to be something that special.          
  
"Absolutely. You'd be perfect." He sounds a bit breathless and it's actually quite romantic, you think.           
  
"Well, that's neither here nor there, they'd never hire me. I can't even approach them!"         
  
"Would you, though? If you had another chance?"  
  
"I think I would!" If anything, it'd be quite an adventure.        
  
"Do you want one?"                 
  
"One what?"                
  
"Another chance."     
  
"Are you kidding me?"             
  
"Nope. I could give you one, I know things. I know how to get things done."                
  
"I don't even know your name."          
  
"It's Maes Valentine."              
  
"And you could really do that, Mr. Valentine?"            
  
"Yes." Standing on the middle of the plass, in the pouring rain, he sticks out his hand. Despite everything your parents taught you about strange men, you take it. Then, suddenly, the world starts spinning and when you look at Maes, he looks decidedly less human.                
  
"Good luck, Gwen Cooper, See you on the other side."            
  
You blink for a moment and then you're standing next Andy complaining about the weather and the SUV folks again. Six hours back from ten seconds ago. This time though, when the Torchwood folk start investigating the body, you abandon your post and begin the biggest thrill of your life. _

 

* * *

 

_Time Agency, ----._

  
_Beep beep beep.  
_   
Just like every morning, Ianto's vortex manipulator woke him with loud, unforgiving screeches and like most mornings, he wasn't very keen on the sound.  
  
Unlike most mornings however, he couldn't get his right arm to reach the left so as to turn the damn thing off. It was trapped. His sleep-muddled mind didn't quite register what was going on, until a third arm reached over and flicked the off switch.        
  
_Oh right, that actually happened._  
  
Ianto was lying on his stomach, face practically squashed into the pillow, while Jack had somehow ended up half on top of him during the night and after graciously turning off the alarm, was going right back to sleep.  
  
"Jack." He mumbled "We have to get up."     
  
The mop of hair he could barely see from over his shoulder stirred and responded that Gwen could go fuck herself, he was the boss, they were taking a day off.               
  
Ianto smiled and took a moment to enjoy the ritual. It was one of those things he'd thought he'd lost after dying in Thames house.  
  
"Hmmm, we can't, work to do.-"        
  
Jack kissed him between his shoulderblades, but otherwise ignored the comment. When he tried to nudge him with his elbows, the captain used his own hands to languidly push them in the other direction.        
  
"-You sleep two hours a night, there is no way you're not wide awake now."  
  
"What makes you think I'm only doing this to catch up on sleep?"  
  
"Should've guessed.-"             
  
His partner smirked, so Ianto smacked his thigh. This only illicited a nearly illegal moan.          
  
_If we can't do this the easy way..._      
  
"-Come on you, the universe needs saving." Ianto said before rolling over and promptly dumping Jack on the unused side of the bed.                  
  
"You're no fun!"          
  
"That's not what you said last night." He kissed the captain one last time before heading towards the bathroom. Of course Jack being Jack meant that he was still up and running within ten seconds flat and so managed to sneak into the shower with Ianto anyway.    
  
Needless to say, they arrived late for breakfast. Amy and Rory were already finishing up, even Angie, who was always slow because she worked and ate at the same time, was halfway through her toast.       
  
It was good to see her coming along a bit since after yesterday's bombshell, though.  
  
"Alright, so as I was saying-" Angelica took one look at the two of them and promptly veered off topic"-I, uhm, should really be going. Big, busy day. Bye."   
  
She rushed out of the hall.     
  
_Not coming along that well, then.  
_   
"Is she-" Ianto asked                
  
"I reckon she's both embarrassed and scared right now. It'll take time." Amy answered and picked up the tablet Angie had left behind.                 
  
"We're having our first session later today." Rory pitched in.                
  
"She didn't seem all that scared when she turned on the fire alarm last night." That was Jack, still bitter apparently.       
  
"Well, yesterday we were just videofeeds to her. Amy, stop smirking."         
  
That only made the redheads grin bigger. "So, you two-" she began.               
  
"- are not up for discussion right now, thank you."     
  
"I thought we were going to talk about us more." Jack, curse him, thought this was funny too.          
  
"To each other, and for the love of God, don't encourage her!"          
  
At that point the conversation just sort of devolved in a cackling Jack and Amy. Luckily for him, there was at least one person at the table who wasn't interested in his love life.    
  
"Right. I thought I might see to the emhh, suspects for a bit, fix up some of their wounds. Mr. Matheson’s in particular."      
  
"Good, Jack and I are going to look into our current evidence, see if a pair of experienced eyes could find something new."

“Can I come?” Amy asked, much too enthusiastic for his liking.

“No, you can’t.” Ianto said, at the same time as Jack landed a resounding “Yeah, sure!”

This was one of those potentially tricky situations where he disagreed with the captain, choosing efficiency over emotions. Had Ianto still been a Torchwood operative, then now would’ve been the moment to automatically default to the captain’s decision.

_But I’m not, and we are not under the jurisdiction of Jack’s benevolent dictatorship here.  
_

“No.-” He continued “- You are not coming because you have better things to do than ogle me and my…” _Think fast_ “…Jack” he finished lamely. Amy, in her turn, looked absolutely scandalized.

“I would never! And what else would I do? Scroll through the database for a third time to see if maybe we’ve missed an entry that says ‘was changed into a giant emotion eating monster’?” 

“You could help Angie.” 

“You know how she gets when I start touching her toys.” 

“Help Rory then.”

“Same argument.”

_Right. We aren’t under Ianto’s benevolent dictatorship either._

He sighed, but realized that Amy had already made the decision for him. 

“Can you be mature about this?”

“Absolutely! Mature is my middle name.”

“It’s Jessica.”

“Does this mean I get to come?”

“Go prepare the climbing gear.”

Amy pumped her fists, jumped up, kissed Rory on his lips and practically ran off towards the storage units. The captain meanwhile was giving him pointed looks.

“Did you have something to add?”

“You’re very sexy when you’re bossy.”

That was cue enough for Rory to get to work, leaving Ianto to explain to Jack why Mrs. Amelia Pond definitely didn’t need support for her crazy plans.

 

* * *

It took Amy about ten seconds flat to realize that she was a complete third wheel on this particular bike. Of course, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, nor an unexpected one. In fact, she was more than happy to just watch the two men going about their business.          
  
It was mesmerizing, the way Ianto and Jack worked together, every step in their work resembled a flawlessly choreographed dance. And the kicker? Neither one of them seemed aware of doing it. For example, right now, Ianto was magnetizing the couplings on one end, while Jack was simultaneously attaching them to the entry points on the other. In the past, when it had been Amy doing Jack's work, they'd need at least four tries and a countdown to act vaguely synchronic.                 
  
_And to think, they haven't seen each other in years._  
  
"So, what are we looking at here?" Jack asked while Ianto began fasting straps on his climbing belt.     
  
"Parasite holding cell."                
                    
"Point of origin?"      
  
"Yep." The Welshman was now putting on his own belt.          
  
"Any unstable elements?"        
                    
"None so far. The only potential threat is a quantum image, but it's been on repeat since we found it."               
  
"Well then, lead on." The captain grinned.                 
  
"Amy, you're up first."                
  
"Okidoki." She always loved this part. The ropes were secured and upheld by Ianto, while Amy allowed herself to drop face first into the hole so she could run vertically down the tunnel-wall.            
  
It was a well-practiced stunt on both sides nowadays and within ten seconds she touched the floor. Jack, having never made the drop, took significantly longer, as did Ianto, who just calmly lowered himself into the dark. Which reminded her to turn on the lights. Over time, they'd moved boxes with provision down here, put up torches all along the walls and placed scanners at various places. All in all, the prison was a lot less scary then when they'd entered it first. Almost automatically she began setting up scans and preparing necessities for the trip.                    
                    
"Ianto's been training you." Jack's voice punctured through the silence.  
  
"I...suppose? What makes you say that?"                   
  
"You work like a Torchwood agent."         
  
She hoped that was a compliment.           
  
"Do you miss it? Y'know, hunting aliens?"                   
  
"Some things; my team, helping people. But there are definitely parts I can do without.-" he seemed mildly uncomfortable."- So, what about you? Do you miss traveling with the Doctor?"              
  
"Eh, on the slow days, but tracking down time travelling criminals is a pretty good alternative to it. Especially now that you guys are here. It sure beats waiting for the TARDIS to show up."       
  
"Yeah, I hear ya."      
  
"I mean, he says five minutes, and then takes a fourteen year long detour."  
  
"I know. How do you deal with waiting half your life for the Doctor to come back?"  
  
"By hitting him in the head with a cricket bat is how!"                
  
"You hit him with a cricket bat?!"                
  
"What? You mean you didn't?"                   
  
"I can see why Ianto likes you."                   
  
"Nothing like a good whack in the head to start a new incarnation. His words, not mine.-" She smiled at Jack and began searching through another box before continuing. "-But enough about the Raggedy Man. Since we've established that you're not the bad guy, we're back to square one. I was thinking of interrogating Matheson again."                
  
"I don't think that's a good idea..."             
  
"Why not?"                 
  
"No offence, but based on my experiences, your questioning skills are a bit lacking."  
  
"Excuse me?!" Amy would have found a few not so nice words on the matter, if Ianto hadn't touched down that very moment.             
  
"That was me." He stated quickly before passing Jack and venturing further into the tunnel.                   
  
"Wait. What?"            
  
"I told her to play it loose, so you'd be more willing to talk."  
  
Amy stuck out her tongue at Jack, who ignored her in favor of badgering Ianto some more.                    
  
"How many times am I going to get conned by you? 'Cause I'd like to be prepared next time."                
  
"As many times as necessary, sir."             
  
"Oeehh, he called you 'sir'!" She giggled, while Ianto closed his eyes in embarrassment.  
  
"It's a thing with him." Jack replied.           
  
"It _was_ a thing. You're not my superior anymore, so we're not doing that again."  
  
"Wha...but I liked the 'sir'!"       
  
"Yeah, I bet you did!" Amy chirped.          
  
"And you! You were going to be an adult about this." Ianto accused.   
  
"Alright, alright. Equipment's all set to go...sir! "       
  
"I don't even know why I try anymore." He sighed.                    
  
After that, they managed to get focused on work and so, it didn't take long to reach the Torchwood symbol. Jack seemed as stumped as Ianto had been that first time and Amy couldn’t help but notice that the Welshman had slipped a hand on the older man's back, lightly supporting him as the captain figured out what that meant.       
  
"Does this mean-"

“Yep.”

“So, they’re-” 

“Oh yeah.”

“It didn’t work. I kept trying to make Torchwood better, make it more than it was. But this…this proves that it wasn’t enough. I should’ve done…The Doctor was right. Everything they did, I’m a part of it. I’m responsible for this.”  
  
"What?-" Ianto replied"- Now, don't you start with that bollocks too. You're more than two hundred years old and very well connected. Just because it's easier to name the things you're not related too then the ones you are doesn't mean you're automatically to blame for everything."

_Oh boy…_

Amy recognized that this was probably one of those moments where she wasn’t particularly welcome. So with a stealth she actually did learn from Ianto, the ginger moved on, leaving the two men to sort out that problem on their own. Though, wandering through the dark corridors of the Agency’s undercroft, she began to wonder about the Time Lord she travelled with: If Jack had spent half of his long life waiting for the Doctor and if the alien still managed to inflict so much guilt on a guy like that, then who had her friend been in the first place? Ianto certainly didn’t hold him in high regards and she couldn’t really blame him. The Doctor had run off after the battle for Canary Wharf while the survivors suffered. He had abandoned Jack with no intention of ever returning. Amy was just having a hard time connecting those decisions to the man who interfered because a child was crying, or who gave Vincent van Gogh a chance to see the future, the one who came back for little Amelia because he had said five minutes.                      
  
_Still…_

She’d seen the look in his eyes in 1941 when the Daleks showed up. How angry and self-righteous he’d been then, and when all those species locked him in the Pandorica because they feared ‘the Oncoming Storm’. Was that her future then, to end up like Jack? Living constantly by the Doctor’s insane standard, out of her own time, stumbling to fit into a normal life again? 

_If he even so much as tries, I’ll whack him again, and I’ll damn sure find something harder than a cricketbat in that case._

Amy resolved to ask her friend about it when they met again, and maybe convince him to talk to Jack for a bit. A few minutes after arriving at the screaming ghost, she could hear voices in the distance. The men had caught up again.

“You fella’s worked things out, then?”

“Yes, all good.” Ianto seemed to have mellowed considerably in the last few minutes, he was also walking suspiciously close to his partner, leaving Amy to conclude that she’d made the right decision in the end. When Jack moved closer to the ghost and asked what it was, Ianto motioned her to give it a try.

“Oh, me? Alright. Well, this is the emotional residue of either the parasite’s victim or the beast himself, we’re not quite sure…”

“It’s the parasite, alright.-” Jack answered. Followed by a “How can you tell?” from Ianto. “- See what he’s wearing? That’s not your everyday prison outfit, even for late Torchwood or early Time Agency. Those plugs on the shoulders? Direct input for a quantum suppressor. You don’t put that on a guy unless you seriously want to isolate him.”

“How come Angie didn’t see it?” Amy was quite impressed by his quick analysis. 

“Vex? This stuff is ancient to her. From the 23th century, most likely. It’d be like you trying to identify cavemen fashion trends. I only know what it is because it fell through the rift in…I think it was 1870. It’s crude stuff, but effective. Have you tried running his face through the database?”

“Jack, there’s no face to speak off.” Ianto told him.

“Not yet there isn’t. C’mon gorgeous, help me out here. ” he crouched down to the figure who was hunching over at the moment and placed his hand on top of it, Ianto sat next to him with a questioning look, but eventually followed his example. Amy, who was holding a scanner, noted the influx of energy immediately. “Whoa. Readings are off the charts. You three are sharing it big time.”

Jack nodded and held his own scanner in front of the beings face, which, if the rest of its body was any indication, would be much more defined now and finally, Amy understood what was happening. “The parasite grows stronger when it sucks up morphic energy…You feeding the image of it does the same.”

“Exactly. Now, my guess is that it’s visible because of that. But how on earth is an emotional ghost capable of stealing our energy in the first place? ”

_I knew those hours of listening to Angie drone on would pay off eventually._

“An image like this would be based on a morphic field right? So, if the Parasite’s own field was messed up, the quantum energy of it would be as well.-” She answered, surprising Jack in the process. “-But is that really what we’re looking for here? We know how our beastie functions. What we don’t know is how it managed to immortalize the entire population of earth.”

“Actually,-” Ianto added. “-I think we do. Everyone’s immortal but you. Angie may have been barking up the wrong tree, but she was right about one thing, there has to be a connection. This thing, it’s like Abbadon, feeding of off life force or whatever you want to call it. And we all know how much you’ve got of that.”

“So what? It strived to make the whole world like me? But the Miracle itself was facilitated by humans. If what Colasante said was true.”

“Think bigger. The whole corporation and everyone involved, they’re just pieces on a chessboard to this creature. It can change time, all it had to do was nudge a few people in the right direction.”

“Which, if Rory was right, is ridiculously easy right now.” Amy added.

“Come again?” the captain asked. 

“Well, he said everyone is going on a paranoid frenzy now; Governments, the army, the public.”

“That…that actually makes a lot of sense. They can feel the parasite feeding, but can’t see him. They instinctively know something is hunting them, so they get nervous and then they lash out at everything and everyone around them, looking for a predator.”

“Like Angie, when she was down here.” Ianto said, still sitting on his hunches, feeding the image.

“But why weren’t we affected?” She kept a close eye on the scanner.

“We’ve already established you’re different. Ate a rift.-” he pointed at Ianto. “- temporal crack in bedroom.-” and at Amy. “-so, yeah, that’s probably it. I think we’re done here.”

Both Jack and Ianto tried to stand up at the same time, and while Jack was mostly successful, the Welshman nearly keeled over when he reached full height.

“Whoa there, take it easy. What’s happening? Amy?!”

She took another look at the scanner. “The energy, it’s sucking him dry, trying to materialize itself.”

“Well, why is it not doing that to me?!”

“It’s not…There’s a different equation happening. With Ianto, the relationship is parasitic, with you, it’s symbiotic. We need to get that thing off of him.”

The Welshman kept growing paler, still insisting he was fine, but Amy’s scanner was picking up a whole different story. With every second his response time grew slower, as did his heart.

_C’mon, we can’t drag him back up there, he’ll never make It in this state. There has to be something here, something we can use. Think. Think!...Wait! That might work._

“Jack! This way.” She led them down the long hallway, Ianto held up by the captain and barely stumbling along as they went. Finally, after what felt like forever, they reached the cavern.

“Angie made us wreck out a few parts, but the field on the left should still do the trick. Get him over there.” 

Jack thankfully did just as she asked, and within seconds Amy was climbing up the tall spire in the middle of the room.

_Crap, there goes another one._

She threw her activated vortex manipulator into its center and watched as the inevitable flash lit up the entire room. The null fields, now more aggressive than ever thanks to Angie’s meddling, shut down every connection in a square mile radius, including the one attaching Ianto to the image and _thank God_ the scanners were now picking up a normal signature on him.

Looking down, she saw her friend awkwardly try to sit up while Jack was practically smothering him.

“Jesus! I’m sorry. Are you alright?-” A kiss. “-I should never have-” another kiss “-Don’t do that again.” And a full on snog right there.

“No worries, that’s why we bring Amy along to these sorts of things. If anyone has a talent for pulling plans out of her arse at a moment’s notice, it’s her.-”

And okay, maybe the phrasing was a bit odd, but it definitely made her glow with pride at the compliment. Until he started asking difficult questions again.

“- You said the equation was different. How?” 

“I don’t know. It was like it knew it needed Jack to survive. The energy runs both ways.” The scan was still running itself on screen.

A feint noise appeared from the entrance. Right there, was the parasite’s image. Its distinctive shape was gone again, but the thing was still heading towards Jack and Ianto, who had both drawn their guns by now.

“How…How…is it doing that?” Jack asked.

“Your connection, it’s fading now, but still there. That thing is drawn to it.” The memory was now walking away again, and soon faded back into its old rhythm.

“T-that’s one for the labs.” Ianto heaved before both Jack and Amy dragged him back topside.

 

* * *

 

_Cardiff, 2006._

_  
You feel guilty, and keep trying to tell yourself that it Owen’s fault. That he’s one who started it all, back in that corpse drawer. Deep down though, you know it isn’t him. It’s the excitement, the adrenaline. Being with Rhys is easy and being with Torchwood (with Jack, your mind automatically supplies) is amazing. There are moments when you think about telling your boyfriend, even just the harmless parts, the stuff that normal people go through, but you don’t, because then it wouldn’t be secret anymore, it wouldn’t be special. It would just become everyday life, discussed over dinner. Likewise, some days you feel like approaching Jack, approaching Owen, make your move and try really hard to get things to work. But then you realize that these men won’t change, that you’ll never be more to them than their work is. So you pretend that you want your life with Rhys at home and pretend that this thing with Owen, Jack, Torchwood in general is all there is at work._

_So now you find yourself here: In the mother of all messes. Rhys is conked out on the couch because you made yet another attempt at connecting normal life to Torchwood but couldn’t make a complete leap of faith. You can’t let go of one without having the reassurance of the other.  
_

_It’s not even about aliens now. It’s about two aspects of yourself that you can’t reconcile with each other._

_You want Torchwood._

_You want Rhys._

_And the choice is killing you._

_“Oh my sweet girl, what happened?” By now, you know the voice, it’s Maes. Sweet, wonderful Maes who gives without ever asking back. He touches the back of your neck and you practically tumble into his arms. Crying like a baby._

_“I-I can’t! It’s my fault! I can’t do this anymore, I’m quitting! This has gone on long enough!”_

_“Hold on, slow down. What brought all this on?”  
_

_Suzie had once told you that all the shit in the universe ended up on this side of the rift and for the most part, you agree with her. But then there’s this mystical spaceman who keeps helping you and who might as well be your bloody fairy godmother. You’re sure it’s compensation, a way for the universe to make things fair again. Compensation for everything that’s gone wrong._

_When your first day goes like shit, you ask him to make Jack like you more. The next day, your boss starts lavishing you with attention and kindness._

_When you accidently kill a man by trying to read the future, you ask for people to forget it. Not a week later the most unassuming member of Torchwood reveals his cyber-girlfriend in the basement._

_When you feel guilty about Jack’s treatment of the poor guy, you wish he’d feel the same. Suddenly, you find yourself at an old woman’s funeral._

_When you see poor Tosh go home alone again, you tell Maes you want her to be loved too. Suddenly she has a girlfriend._

_The list goes on and on, but you don’t think that he can solve this. So you tell him what you’ve done and how horrible it is and that you really can’t stay with Torchwood after this maybe not even Rhys. You think about going, avoiding the choice by picking neither._

_“No! You can’t do that! Rhys needs you, Torchwood needs you! Look at all the good you’ve done, all the people you’ve saved. Your colleagues are better people for having you!”_

_“Doesn’t look like that from where I’m sitting.” And you’re not sitting in a pretty place._

_“Think about it! Without you, they never would’ve found that Cyberman, Tosh wouldn’t have known what love was and Jack would still be a cold hearted bastard if you hadn’t taught him how to be human again. You’re the heart of this organization!”_

_“I am?… I suppose I am. Yeah, yeah you’re right! But what about Rhys?” Your tears are drying, but the problem still stands._

_“What about Rhys? Come tomorrow he won’t even remember what you did. Tell you what, I’ll sort this thing with Owen out, get him someone else to focus on.”_

_“Thank you, oh and make sure that Rhys never finds out about my affair. I don’t… want to deal with that.”_

_“Of course sweetheart, anything for you.”_


	23. The rule that you live by and die for.

* * *

  _Cardiff, 2007._

 

_“I need to lead them. They need to understand that they can’t do this without me.”_

_“Last week you wanted Jack back.” He says while sipping on a martini._

_“Screw Jack. I- we don’t need him anymore. I just can’t work with Owen’s attitude, or Tosh and Ianto banding together. Someone needs to be the boss. I’ll do it.” You look at him, hoping he’ll understand the sacrifice you’re making. You’ve seen how Torchwood deals with those they consider traitors and you have no intention of joining the ranks, especially not now that Rhys proposed to you._

_Every time you look at your right hand, the mixed feelings of the past three days come back to haunt you. Part of you is so, so happy that you’re getting that whole fairytale thing, another part wishes it wasn’t boring old Rhys you were getting it with and a third whispers that you don’t deserve this one bit, not after what you’ve done to him._

_But that part? You’ve stopped listening to it weeks ago. This is your destiny; this is who you were meant to be. You get to have it all and you’re damn well done apologizing for it. Regardless, you never told them about the things you did for them. Maes asked you not too, and given Torchwood’s general treatment of aliens, you agree. He wouldn’t be happy in a cell, or on an operating table. No, your friend has already proven himself harmless: after all, if he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve had plenty of opportunity._

_So, he’s your little secret, your way to ensure that the organization doesn’t become heartless. Your co-workers don’t need to know what you’ve done for them, so long as they understand that you’re important to them._

_Which brings you back to the reason why you’re sitting in a trendy bar, rather than at home with Rhys._

_“You’ll do it then? You’ll help me get on top?”_

_He sits up straight, looks you in the eye and asks “Why?” This is new. A few months ago, he was the one giving you reasons to help people. Well, two can play that game._

_“Because Torchwood would be better with me as its leader. I could do more than Jack ever did. Save more lives, help those who deserve it.”_

_“Hmm, I don’t know…”_

_“Come on, Maes! When have you ever known me to use you for selfish reasons? They need me!” you put your hand on his, he doesn’t remove it._

_“I suppose that’s true…Alright then. No more Jack, bring on Captain Cooper.” He smiles at his own little joke but it makes you uncomfortable. You’re not sure why._

_“Sure, Sure. Just get it done.”_

* * *

_Time Agency, ----._

He applied the last of the bandage and told Miss Drummond to try and keep it dry until he came by again.

_Jumping off a second floor and into a fountain, it’s a miracle she got away with just a few scratches._

So, far she’d been the easiest patient of the day, since Mr. Matheson had immediately started grumbling when Rory so much as suggested that maybe a few of his stitches had pulled during, well, jetting across the globe and Miss Colasante had been a crying mess all over. There really wasn’t a lot he could do for her. That just left the last of the ‘suspects’: Mrs. Cooper. The one he’d been dreading all day.

A part of him wanted to just let her rot in the cell for all the things she’d done, forget about any injuries she might have sustained or worse, make her feel what Maria had to feel.

_In every house where I come I will enter only for the good of my patients, keeping myself far from all intentional ill-doing._

Right, so maybe he’d never actually had to swear the Hippocratic Oath, but still, he was a nurse, not a judge, jury or an executioner. It was his job to help people and so, the door slid open to reveal the source of his fears.

“ ’Afternoon.” Rory greeted.

“Is it? I can’t bloody tell in this place.” Cooper pouted. He was shocked at how much a dangerous killer could look like a four-year-old.

“The uhm, lighting, it’s brightest at noon.” He tried to move, but his body seemed stuck in place.

“Are you here for a reason, or is this some new kind of torture?”

_Torture is a piece of shrapnel lodged in your brain, torture is burning to death without dying, torture is watching countless of lives end in an explosion._

“No. I’m the medic. A-are you hurt anywhere?” Rory wished for more courage. If Amy had been here, she would’ve made a biting comment to hit the point.

“My wrist.” She stuck out her arm. A cut large enough for a few stitches, but nothing serious. He was still not used to auto-pilot nurse mode but, lo and behold, his hands automatically fill a syringe as his mind goes through the procedure in preparation.

Mrs. Cooper was avoiding his gaze, disregarding his hands. It would be so, so easy to just slip in a bit more painkiller, or add a bit of air. Maybe, if she had been remorseful, it would’ve been okay. Maybe then he wouldn’t have felt this poisonous anger. It was obvious she only saw him as a uniform, a faceless nurse.

_A nobody, just like those soldiers…_

His stomach was doing backflips, perhaps because of his nerves or, more likely, because of the anger, threatening to boil over any moment. It presented Rory with one of two choices. Either he could ‘slip up’ and do something he would definitely regret in the future or he could confront both himself and Cooper with what happened in the past.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

That got her attention.

“Should I?” There was more than a little suspicion in her voice.

“I was at Cowbridge.” The words had weighed heavily on his shoulders before and, instead of calming him, ignited a whole new kind of wrath.

“You’re one of them. One of those Nazi doctors.” Cooper quickly dodged away from his medical instruments. As if it wasn’t already too late. If he had wanted to hurt her, he could’ve done so already.

“I was undercover-.” Which was the truth, sort of. “-Looking to uncover the government’s dirty secrets.-” Again, no lies. “-Until you blew it up.” His voice was finally stern, if not angry, enough to leave an impression.

“Well, you got what you wanted then, didn’t you? The whole world saw me end their reign of terror.”

_There’s a skewed self-image for you._

“End their..? What?! You didn’t end it. You perpetuated it. We’ll never know what they were doing now. Why they were doing it. Most of the folks there had no idea what was going on. Do you even realize the damage you’ve done?” His voice was rising.

“I made a statement! I made a statement because no-one else would! I showed the world that what they were doing was wrong!” Cooper screamed.

“You made a _Youtube film!_ There was no impact…No result. No-one took up arms, no-one blamed the governments, or the corporations. They blamed you! For all of it. And they could! Because you were just a grand gesture, nothing but hot air. No-one could reason or ally themselves with you because you didn’t dare to show yourself! If you were brave, really actually brave, you would stand up; used words and evidence instead of guns and explosives!”

Rory just stood there, out of breath and about ready to bloody cry. Cooper was quiet, her posture was tense, obviously not willing to move an inch, but in her eyes he could see the doubt. There, hidden underneath a determined look was fear, and lots of it. The possibility that maybe she hadn’t been the hero she imagined herself to be.

“I did the right thing.” She said and really, he was too tired to argue anymore. If she felt the need to justify her ignorance until it ran off a cliff, who was he to stop her? There was however, one more thing eating away at him, and Rory figured he might as well get that off his chest now.

“Did you know they were doing research at Cowbridge?” He asked, making sure to sound as casual as possible.

Cooper looked at him as if he grew another head.

“Yeah. Funny that. They were well on their way to figuring out the Miracle. Hell, we used documents from that facility to prove captain Harkness’s innocence. What I’m trying to say is…It’s awfully coincidental that you destroyed all that evidence right before being accused of committing the crime.”

He didn’t have the strength to stay in the room and left before that vile woman could respond. On the hallway, Rory collapsed once more. Breathing was hard, thinking even harder. He’d gone in with the intention of helping her and came out wanting to destroy her. It wasn’t right. What was he supposed to do now?

_Should I tell the Agents?_

_Should I tell Amy?_

_Was it even useful in the first place?_

In the end, he managed to drag himself back to the medical bay. At least there, no-one would disturb him, or not until Amy returned from her little expedition, anyway.

_In every house where I come I will enter only for the good of my patients, keeping myself far from all intentional ill-doing._

He needed to stay out of this. It wasn’t his business ( _liar!_ His mind screamed). He would help end the threat and give medical attention to anyone who needed it, but Lord knows he couldn’t do these kinds of righteous speeches anymore. They were just too toxic to the person he wanted to be. The person he aspired to be.

* * *

_Cardiff, 2008_

 

_“Why?! Why would you even do something like that?!” The tears in your eyes are blurring out his face._

_“You did ask me to get rid of him.” He’s ridiculously calm about the whole thing and you seriously consider strangling him._

_This was never what you wanted. It was just that Rhys was coming so close to Torchwood now that he knows about it and Owen…bloody Owen couldn’t keep his mouth shut. No, he had to yap on and on about how maybe he would tell Rhys how lucky he was to have ‘such a talented broad between his sheets’ and ask him ‘if he thought those blowjobs were up to standards’ and God, you just couldn’t do it anymore! So, you asked Maes and the next thing you know, you’re yelling on an abandoned plass to an alien while everyone else is mourning your dead-coworker inside._

_“Not like this!! Never like this, you arse!-” Another sob escapes. “-I thought you’d just send him away, get him fired! Not fucking killed! ”_

_“You wanted no risks. People don’t just leave Torchwood, sweetheart. Retcon is not exactly reliable, you would know. ”_

_“Oh Jesus Christ, this is all my fault. OhGodgodgod, how could this happen!!” You’re hyperventilating, you just know it. The excuses go through your mind over and over again. Owen would destroy your marriage, Owen would blackmail you, Owen would seduce you again, it was only natural that you wanted him gone._

_In fact, if you’re really honest with yourself, things would be better if he were gone._

_No, no, no, no, no. No!_

_You can’t think this, it’s not right. He’s a friend, a horrible one, true. But a friend nonetheless. You don’t wish your friends away. Do you?_

_Is he truly a friend, though? Back then, before. You had Trina and Megan then. They were real friends, the kind you had fun with. Nowadays though, they’re drifting and so you call these…these broken people your friends._

_It’s all Torchwood’s fault. God, if you’re not careful you might turn into one of them. A sad, lonely workaholic, detached from reality. They’re not normal, but…_

_But they need you. The organisation needs you. Just like it needs Owen._

_“Bring him back.” You tell Maes._

_“And how would you like him to be brought back?” Is he smiling? Why the hell is he smiling?_

_“I don’t bloody care how you do it. Just do it!” You yell as you turn around to call Rhys, because damn it, you need to tell this to someone who isn’t a freak. When it starts ringing, you realize that Maes is gone again, and you think that you can hear the SUV driving off in the distance._

* * *

 

_Time Agency, ----._

_This proton cable goes next to the defluxer, and then…_

A loud bang echoed through the hall, abruptly destroying whatever concentration flow Angelica had. She could ignore it, and would have done so too, if not for the following distinct clatter of equipment. Climbing out of the ten feet tall cannon was no easy task, but she’d long since used to small crawling spaces.

Of course, as if breaking her concentration wasn’t enough, the source of the noise had to be the one person on the entire grounds she didn’t want to see.

‘’Harkin.”

“Oh. It’s you.-” He unceremoniously dropped the micro soldering gun on the table. It wasn’t an expensive tool, nor a particular important one, but that kind of negligent behavior always bugged Angelica, so she can’t quite stop herself from tsssk-ing at it. Harkin, being his typical brutish self, didn’t notice.

“-Have you seen Ianto?” He asked, while picking up another piece off the table.

“Do I look maternal to you?” Angie realized only seconds too late that she probably should’ve been more tactful with the guy she tormented for no good reason.

_Water under the bridge._

“Hmmm, let’s see; no spit-up on your clothes, the general parenting skills of a praying mantis and of course the very obvious lack of warmth and friendliness. I’m gonna go with no.” It surprised her to a certain degree that the Agent was baiting her so soon after their recent blow-up.

“Then why are you acting like I’m your boyfriend’s mother?” She tried neutral, but it probably came out as bitchy anyway.

_It usually does._

“Alright, alright, no need to get snippy.-” Again, completely unfazed by her apparent discontent “- Though, I will say this, you’d make a mean mother in law.”

“No, I haven’t seen him. Please leave.” There. Might as well get it over with.

“Yeah, sure, bye.” Harkin began making a move to walk off, but something just didn’t sit right with Angie. It was in the way he acted, there had always been an aura of anarchy surrounding Boe but somehow, something had changed.

“Harkin.-” she called, but he’d already gone down corridor. “-Harkin!...Jax!”

The mop of brown hair popped around the corner again.

“Yes?”

“I uhhh…Y-you’re really not a rogue, are you?” Her own words didn’t quite register as Harkin puffed up his chest and made a distinct ‘I’m the boss’ gesture.

“Well, that depends, what do you mean by rogue? Did I desert the Agency without permission? I did. Have I conned people using my vortex manipulator? In the past, sure. But if you’re asking me whether or not I left because there was more profit on the other side? No. I didn’t.” The sadness in his voice convinced her of his honesty.

“I mean, you’re not like Lang. You’ve got…a code.”

“A code?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, you know, like ‘leave no man behind’ and ‘save the innocents’. Stuff like that. You have moral boundaries.”

“I try to have them. It doesn’t always work out that way.”

_You and me both, man. You and me both._

“The point is…you’re not in this for yourself.”

“No. Never have been.”

It didn't seem right that he wasn’t an Agent anymore. She'd known there were rotten eggs in the organisation, she even knew a few Agents who'd ran off because they couldn't handle the pressure but Harkin had deserted only to pick up a near perfect copy of the job later on. The Agency would have, no, should have let him back in. Put a few naturalization charges on the case and he would've walked away with nothing but a slap on the wrist.  
  
"Did they ever ask you back?"             
  
"Nope." He sighed.   
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Look, I know you don't want to hear it, but the Agency wasn't exactly something to write home about. Maybe they still pretended to uphold the old rules in this ivory tower here, but out there? It was like I said: greed and power. They probably figured I was the recipe for an uproar at that point and I can't say they were wrong, so...yeah. "               
  
Angelica nodded. He was right, it was hard to hear that her home, her family had been nothing more than a bunch of crooks. Though, if she thought about the parasite, Agents like Lang and the hordes upon hordes of technology that ended up in the time stream despite regulations, it was obvious, really. She could hardly defend that anymore.         
  
"I think I misjudged you..."   
  
"You think?" Harkin deadpanned.     
  
"Yeah, yeah. Alright, I get it. Me making mistakes seems to be a rising trend nowadays."  
  
"Comes with change, I guess. We all know the pitfalls in our own backyard, but everyone's bound to trip up in unknown territory."             
  
"A-aren't you mad at me? You should be, you know." She'd asked Ianto the same question, and only now realized that the two men were a lot alike.  
  
"Eh, I was at first. Still haven't forgiven you for those damn sprinklers but other than that...I just feel sorry for you, knowing what it's like to have the whole world turn topsy turvy on you." He answered, and there was a hint of his real age shining through his eyes.       
  
"Being pitied isn't much better than being hated." It sounded petulant, even to her.             
  
"I could throw a raging fit, if you like, maybe destroy some property."           
  
"No! No, I mean, pity is fine, I can deal with pity.-" The obvious terror must've shown on her face, because Harkin was laughing at her now."-Oh, shut up."

“What are you working on?”

“Big fucking cannon. I thought Ianto explained it.-” Angie pointed at the large structure she was currently sitting on. “- Or were you two too busy jackrabbiting to get to that?”

“We were, but he did. I meant, which part are you working on?” The sleazy grin on his face practically made her eyes roll automatically.

“Proton cables. They overload whenever I try to connect them to the mainframe.” She took a look at her hand, by now littered with tiny burns from her efforts.

“Lemme see.” Without further ado, he climbed on the large machine and began fiddling with the thing.

“Harkin…hey, what the…would you stop that!” There really was no rhyme or reason to his actions, he was just randomly sticking cables where they didn’t belong.

“It’s Harkness now, actually, or Jack, if you’re feeling collegial.” Another grin.

“Well, then _Jack,_ do you have any idea what you’re doing right now?” _  
_

_Aside from undoing all my work of the past four hours, that is._

“just let me try-” and as he said it, the defluxer lit up like a Christmas tree, indicating a perfect fit to the frame. “- Tadaa! Connected!”

“How the hell did you do that!?”

“I dunno, I just tried some combinations. That’s usually how 49th century tech works. People hardly understood their own devices back then, they just messed around a bit and watched what happened. Cool huh?” Harkin…Harkness… _Jack_ explained.

“You and I really need to work out the meaning of the word cool, but sure. Thanks.” She took another look at his corrections.

“So, how’s this going to work? How are you going to get the parasite here anyway?” He asked.

“Well, I had my suspicions on the connectivity of host, which you confirmed this morning. If the host is in distress, it can call out the parasite.”

“The image? That was my fault?”

“Short answer? Yes. Long answer? You made a memory wander off as if it had a mind of its own, but if Ianto had touched the thing first, it’d be his fault.”

“That’s creepy.” The man looked mildly uncomfortable at the idea.

“It is, but it’s also easy to manipulate. We find the person who is the host, we overload their morphic field and if it’s really the host, those waves will draw our friend right to us.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“They’ll die a horrible death.”

“Charming, and you were going to do that to me?”

She stuttered for a bit, embarrassed at the observation, while Jack jumped off the machine. He then laughed at her once more.

“God, this is too easy. Well, time to for me to go find Mr. Jones! Me and him, we have some unfinished business.”

“Have you tried the archives?-” She asked, and got a ‘duh’ look thrown back at her. “- Right. Of course you did. Try the conference room, he has a habit of holing up in there too.”

“This place has a conference room?”

“Not until Ianto arrived, we didn’t. It used to be council room…70 I think.”

“Ah. Thanks.” He waved lazily at her while wandering off. Angelica watched his back before continuing with her own job.

_Right, so the proton cables go to the defluxer, which then…_

* * *

_Cardiff, 2008_

 

_“I need them gone.” You tell Maes, but your shame keeps you from looking at him. The castle is beautiful this time of the year, even if the weather is a bit chilly._

_“Really? I thought we weren’t doing things like that.”_

_You’ve thought this over long enough. Months even, ever since Owen came back from the dead. The more you look at them, the more you realize their priorities are changing. It used to be all car-chases and dead aliens, but now, now they seem more obsessed with themselves. Jack is too busy shagging Ianto and Owen and Tosh are going on a date. Your colleagues are losing their edge, the job is growing stale, you might as well be working nine to five nowadays. It’s grating to watch all of them act like that, only to then go home to Rhys for the same damn thing._

_Torchwood is dying and you’re the only one who can save it, but sacrifices need to be made._

_“We need a better team. Tosh and Owen, they…they’re not useful to the organisation anymore.”_

_“You know what that means right, when you ask for them gone?” For the first time, Maes seems slightly uncomfortable._

_“It’s for the greater good.-”_

_They’re expendable; after all, there are plenty of doctors and geniuses around. Your friend on the other hand, doesn’t seem happy about it. Nevertheless, he nods._

_“- Don’t judge me! All they’re doing is frolicking in the grass, while the world out there needs me-” you hear your own slip up too late. “-Us. The world needs us, Torchwood.”_

_This is your destiny, though, and you’re not about to let those two get in the way of it._

_“It won’t be pretty.” He practically sneers._

_“They knew what they signed up for. Operatives usually only live to see 26, Tosh and Owen are well over their due date.”_

_You’ve prepared it over and over in your mind. Weighed every pro and con, watched them long enough to know that they’re at a dead end when it comes to work. You’ve tried to think of other ways in which it might work, but there aren’t any. There’s too much information to retcon and neither would ever leave voluntarily. Locking them both up for the rest of their lives seems cruel. Let one live, and the other will be useless from grief, let them both live and Torchwood will sink deeper and deeper into its own red tape.  
_

_It has to be like this._

_So that’s what you tell Maes. He looks at you like he’s been expecting this for a while but responds that you can consider it done and then disappears in his usual whirlwind of…whatever._

_You’re crying. The tears are slowly running down your cheek, but on the inside, you can’t squash the thrill of excitement running up your back._

_Finally, some action._

 


	24. Never give in.

* * *

_Cardiff, 2008_

_It wasn’t enough._

_It would never have been enough. You know that now. It took Daleks crawling in the streets and planets in the sky to make you realize that there is more out there. Things, beings that are stronger, bigger, better than Torchwood. It scares you and angers you at the same time that this Doctor can just swoop in and save the day. It’s not his planet, he’s not from here. It should have been you. What if he suddenly decides to turn on Earth?_

_What if those Daleks come back and he isn’t there?_

_Torchwood is not up for it and that just won’t do. You were glad for a while after that whole thing with Tosh and Owen, because at least Jack and Ianto were finally focusing on the job again._

_But then last night, you heard some things. Things you were never meant to know. The men were arguing? Talking heatedly for a while, then whispering again._

_“Jack, this…this obviously isn’t working-”_

_For a moment, you can’t believe how lucky you are, because them breaking up would surely increase the concentration._

_“-maybe we should, just lock down the office for a while. Call it off, discuss a takeover of the daily jobs to the police. Half of them already know how to deal with a weevil these days. See what happens. ”_

_“You mean shutting Torchwood down.” Jack sounds tired._

_“Yeah. You’ve been doing it for over a century now and I spend almost my entire adult life serving this crappy job. We’re overworked, understaffed and not exactly sound of mind. The police can handle the daily business and UNIT’s doing a fine job on alien invasions. It wouldn’t have to be permanent, just…until we can do this again.”_

_Ianto is whispering, but the words sound like explosions in your mind. Shutting down Torchwood? Not ever. Who does he think he is? The fucking Tea-boy telling the boss what to do, it’s ridiculous, and so, you patiently wait for Jack to refute the proposal._

_“I guess it might be good. But…not yet, I need some time, okay? See if we’re really not essential.”_

_That’s when everything became clear. It had never been Tosh or Owen. That sneaky shit of a Ianto has been orchestrating this behind your back. Completely unraveling Torchwood while no-one paid attention to him. It was the bloody cyberwoman all over again. Well, you uncovered that, no reason why this can’t get sorted._

_Torchwood no longer relevant, huh? You’ll prove them wrong. You’ll give them an invasion that shows the world how important you really are and will get rid of that manipulator once and for all._

_Jack’s probably much better off without him anyway._

* * *

_Time Agency, ----._

 

Rory was brooding over something; Amy, being well familiar with the man by now, had known this for quite a while. He’d been all anxious vibes and dark looks when he thought she wasn’t watching ever since they came back from earth. That was fine, of course, but as always with Rory, the truth came out eventually. There was no point in forcing him to talk or being all dramatic about it, he’d only get annoyed and bottle it up again. Nope, with that guy, you waited and waited and waited until he was ready to talk (This strategy, as she’d soon found out, was also quite effective when it came to a certain mr. Jones).

So, she’d waited, played good cop/bad cop in the interrogation rooms, gone off on little trips with Ianto and had gotten a rather hypocritical rant on destroying her vortex manipulator from Angie.

Therefore, Amy wasn’t particularly surprised when she returned to her room and found her husband sitting on the bed, looking rather pale. She dragged her chair towards him, sat down and took his hand.

“Hey. What’s happening up there?” Amy could be gentle, when she wanted to be.

“Remember that Miracle research facility I was at, when it exploded?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I don’t know actually. There were so many things that I really don’t _want_ remember. But…but I guess that maybe I should? To get it out of my system?”

She kept quiet, he’d need to answer that question himself. If she did, Amy would risk pressuring him, or worse, overlooking whatever problems he had. She just looked at Rory and left him to decide whether it was an expecting, understanding or a dismissing look.

“Well, you should know, there’s quite a backstory there, I mean, first off all, the way I got into Cowbridge and the people I met on the way.” He was still hesitant, but seemingly willing to talk.

“I’ve got time.”

That prompted Rory to spill his guts, he told her about Martin, about Maria, about Rhys, the soldiers, the doctors and everyone else involved. How they got there, what they were doing, what happened to them, no detail was left untouched, and Amy? She just listened.

It was all very factual and detached from Rory himself, which worried her. If there was one thing Amy learned from Ianto Jones then it was that repressing things were bound to come and haunt you in the future.

“So, what about you? How are you holding up with that?” She asked.

“Honestly? I have no clue. All I wanted was to find my wife again. I never asked for any of that but a part of me keeps thinking that I should’ve done more. Of course I can’t really figure out how that would’ve worked, but that doesn’t change anything, does it!-”

Finally, there were some emotions to detect.

“-Did you know, that it was one of your suspects, Cooper, she was the one who did it.”

“ehm, yes. I did know, we connected the dots pretty soon after you gave us the file. I…didn’t want to pressure you on it.”

Rory, bless him, looked relieved.

“I went to visit her today, and we got into a bit of a row. I-I think she may have caused this whole mess. You know, with the parasite.”

“The thought has crossed my mind. We’re down to three real suspects, two of which had no knowledge of Torchwood until a few months ago. The point is, we need evidence. Or at least a confession that isn’t as forced as a square block in a round hole.”

“And that’s where it all falls apart, eh?” her husband sighed.

“Not necessarily. We’re not trying to drag her to court, we’re trying to fix a problem. Worst comes to worst, we take the risk, drag her out and see if she does have a connection that can lure in the beast. There’s just a chance of imminent death if she is innocent. ”

For a moment, the conversation stilled. Until Rory double backed right into emotions again.

“It just seems so random that we both ended up in that camp, that I took exactly the right file to help you guys. I mean, what’s that all about? Destiny? Good instincts? Or just a hell of a lot a coincidences stacked together?”

_If we knew that, we’d probably be a lot wiser on how the universe works._

“I don’t believe in fate, or any of that nonsense. As to what it _is_ then? I haven’t a clue.”

“God, I can’t remember the last time my life was just _normal_.” He groaned.

That sentence however, scared her. Amy knew her husband had only accepted traveling with the Doctor because of her, because it was what she wanted.

_But what if he wants something else?_

When the Dream Lord had shown her the world as Rory would’ve liked it, she was about ready to run screaming for the hills. How could she have chosen that over the wonders of the universe? Of course, then the daft sod died and Amy realized that she could do anything (including babies, boredom and Leadworth) with him, but nothing without him.

“Rory, do you…want normal?” She hated how squeaky her voice was at that last word.

He gave her a confused look.

“What?”

“You know, normal. Back to Leadworth, no more space and time, just us.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. God no, that’s not what I meant. When I said normal, I meant TARDIS, Doctor, adventures. Not this crazy, violent, gory, ‘who was right, who was wrong’ ambiguity.-”

Amy smiled.

“- I mean, all the best to humanity, but really, can they stop being so bloody difficult?”

“Sorry love, but I think difficult is sort of our species’ trademark.”

“Really?-” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, definitely, it’s right up there with promiscuity and unpredictability.” Amy said and casually relocated herself from the chair to his lap.

“Aha. And you know this, how?”

“Personal experience, I’ll have you know that some of my best friends happen to be human. In fact, I am currently married to one!”

She leaned in for a kiss, but before the gesture could actually go anywhere, her temporary replacement vortex manipulator began beeping. A message from Angie was waiting for her on the small screen.

_Boys are planning to wrangle info out of Cooper. Get over here._

And a second one popped in just as she was reading the first.

* * *

 

_Finally, a breakthrough, we seem to have located a live subject who was an active part of what is now known as the zero-group. The first individuals to be infected with the changes._

_The bodies of the only other known members were destroyed during the extraction._

_I’m putting my money on subject GC04174300, It’s all we’ve got left now anyway._

_G.C. 04-17-1943_

An individual of the zero-group, someone close to the origin of the Miracle, who just happened to share their birthdate and initials with one Geraint Cooper.

Ianto didn’t quite know how or why he had managed to remember that Gwen’s father was born on the 17th of April in ’43, but his aptitude for dates was certainly handy now.

Jack had been not been happy at all when they found it out. He’d tried to hide it, but there was a vein in his neck that negated the coy smile he’d put on.

Ianto figured it was quite a turnaround; Jack had gone from being the victim of an overly aggressive interrogator, Angie, to potentially stepping into the role himself now.

_Not quite as different as you two wish you were, hmm?_

This was why he had kindly asked the Captain to leave his weapons (and attitude) at the door. If there was one thing Ianto Jones did, and did well, it was learning from his mistakes. So, he would be present in the room when the questions were asked. Even though his first instinct had been to keep Jack well and far away from Gwen, he’d amended to the fact that Mrs. Cooper and Captain Harkness provoked each other like no other.

_If only I could add Owen to the mix…_

Despite their introverted nature, both Tosh and Ianto had occasionally enjoyed the blow-ups between their teammates. It had probably been cathartic for the participants, but it was always quite revealing for the bystanders.

When Gwen got angry, she got stupid and when she got stupid, she got honest.

The only risk was Jack verbally overpowering her and forcing her into a lie. If things would head in that direction, he would step in. They weren’t here to break Gwen, they were here to lure her out of hiding.

He’d been so deep in thought that Ianto was taken completely by surprise when Jack grabbed his hand.

“Hey. You up for this?” The captain looked him directly in the eye, trying to gage him.

“You know it will just end in a shouting match between you and her. It always does.” He tried to act annoyed.

“So do you. In fact, I think you’re counting on it.-”

_Oh shit, he knows._

Ianto was still deciding whether or not it would be wise to say something or just shut up, when Jack gave him an overconfident smirk. The kind that usually meant he was up to scary things.

“-Don’t worry, I’ll do it. You know how good I am at roleplaying.” He inched closer until they were nose to nose.

“Jack, we’re not snogging in the hallways.”

It was a bit of desperate stalling; the captain didn’t want to go in and defaulted to his most effective method of persuasion.

“No?”

“No.-” Ianto deadpanned, not a second later. “-We have work to do.”

He growled at the word ‘work’ but obliged eventually and let go of the hand, allowing the Welshman to enter the room. Gwen looked miserable and his first instinct was to offer her a coffee. ‘Miserable’ however, immediately changed to ‘pissed off’ when her boss followed him in.

“Oh, here we are. They’re teaming up again.” Her comment was met with a silencing glare from said boss.

“Good evening.” Ianto greeted.

_Stay polite. It’s just Gwen._

“You would not believe how great it felt to be ‘teaming up’ again.” Jack winked and, in an attempt to metaphorically piss on the territory, dumped his feet on the table, directly opposite Mrs. Cooper’s face, whose expression went into the ‘deadly’ area.

“Look, you prick, you’ve been keeping me here for three days now. It’s inhumane! I don’t give a damn about your shagging. Let. Me. Go!” She shoved the heavy boots off the table.

“Oh, like you let me go, when you had me tied in the back of the car? I didn’t give a damn about your sob stories. I never asked to get my ass tasered. You don’t get to talk to me about humane.”

“That was different! I had no choice; my family was hanging in the balance.”

As per usual, Ianto was completely forgotten once they got started.

“And now, the fate of the universe is hanging in the balance. Seems fair doesn’t it?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gwen seemed genuinely confused, he noted. That was a point in her favour.

“The Miracle. It’s a lot more complicated than I ever imagined. But then, I guess you knew that, didn’t you?” Jack’s voice was deceptively soft, and usually the prelude to a lot more yelling.

“Would you stop being so damn cryptic! Are you blaming me for this mess? Why are you blaming me?!” There was a hint of panic there.

“No-one is blaming you, Gwen. We just need to know the truth.” Ianto intercepted. He glanced at his partner.

_Keep it down on the accusations, you know that doesn’t work._

The captain got the message, and signalled a simple ‘what then?’ by putting a quite frankly impressive scowl on his face.

“The truth about _what?_ ”

_A reasonable question._

Ianto slid the now infamous Cowbridge file to her, tapped on the front, and began explaining the situation.

“The Miracle, it influences our morphic field, makes us immortal, you knew that. It’s more though. It makes us like Jack, filled to the brink with energy. And to the being that feeds on those fields, it makes us a three-course meal, rather than a midnight snack. We have reason to believe it’s using our energy to manipulate time on a large scale.” It was a quick and as simple as he could put it.

“So, why are you looking at me and not him?” she pointed at Jack, whose jaw was dangerously clenched.

“Jack is just the template, they simply used him as an example, without him knowing it.”

“You would say that.” Gwen snorted.

“It needs a host, someone to connect him into reality. Scans say I was the last person that thing latched onto, it wasn’t me.” The captain was terribly smug again.

“But it was in 2006, and it was near Torchwood.-” Ianto added. “-Seeing as how Suzie, Owen, Tosh and myself weren’t present during different part of its existence on earth, that leaves us…”

“Me?! No, hang on, that’s not possible, I never did nothing wrong. This is a bloody set-up!”

“You liked it when your colleagues, your friends died. Why should I believe you didn’t want them dead in the first place!?” Jack snarled.

That was one story Ianto hadn’t heard yet, and he would bet on his VM that this was the reason why his co-workers were practically willing to scratch each other’s eyes out ever since he found them again.

And then the yelling began in earnest.

“Really?! That’s what you’re going on now, huh? Something I said while _my family_ was held hostage! That is some A-class police work there, Harkness.”

“Like you would know, you were nothing but a coffee-girl when I hired you!” Jack had stood up, as had Gwen, and they were facing each other off with nothing but the poor table and Ianto between them.

“I was better than any of you together. I am the heart, the spirit of this entire organisation. You, you’re nothing but a sad old man, long overdue for his retirement!” Gwen was schrieking like a banshee.

“Yeah, you wanna know what you are?! You’re fucking _fired_ , Gwen Cooper!”

_This is going nowhere._

“Alright. Settle down.-”

They kept going.

_Well. I tried nicely._

“-Shut up! Both of you!!” Ianto thundered, it wasn’t a voice he often used, it reminded him to much of his father, but this time it was warranted. Gwen seemed momentarily caught off guard. Jack however, was still trying to squeeze in an accusation, as if he needed to convince Ianto of her guilt.

“The things she said, Ianto, I swear! It wasn’t-”

“Sit down, Jack. I said _sit_ down!” He had never had to physically restrain the Captain before, but apparently all breaks and filters were off now.

_And that’s why we’re really not supposed to be in here._

Ianto stared at him until Jack’s eyes were back on him again, rather than on Gwen, whose face was red with anger.

Finally, his lover sat back down.

“It’s not her. She doesn’t know anything. Gwen is hardly a big player in the grand scheme of things.” When he said the words, he believed them. If she had been involved, there would’ve been more clues. She would’ve known things, but everything just came up empty.

“Excuse you!-”

_Christ, don’t. Gwen, for once in your life don’t poke that bear._

She didn’t listen.

“- I am a big player. The biggest. You should be grateful! Everything you have, you have because of me. I gave them to you. To the both of you. Without me, things would’ve been so different!”

There was a shiver going through his body when she said it. He was hearing things wrong, there was a perfectly reasonable, non-parasite related issue she wanted to discuss.

_It can’t be her._

“Gwen…Tell me you didn’t.” Ianto breathed.

“I made sure he loved you, made sure he forgave you after the cyberwoman. So, don’t give me that crap. I asked Maes to make him feel what you felt, I helped you. All of you, can’t you see?!”

“Who is Maes?” Jack stepped in.

“He’s magical. So much more than any of you. He knows that Torchwood needs me. He can change things, so that we’re ready.”

“Change things, huh? Why did Owen and Tosh die then? Why did Ianto?” It was surprising to see how fast Jack had gone from screaming angry back to completely cold.

“They would’ve ruined everything. Didn’t you see how Owen was with Tosh? They began prioritizing each other. That was wrong.”

“What about me?” Ianto was surprised he managed to get through to Gwen, as laser-focussed as she was on the captain but she noticed, and it unleashed another flood of, in his opinion, unwanted information.

“You. You were worst of all. You were destroying the organisation! You wanted to shut it down for Christ ‘sake. And you!-” she turned back to Jack “-You were going to let him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. I needed to protect people!”

Ianto tried to remember what he could’ve said to give her that idea, but quite frankly came up empty. In fact, his mind was coming up empty on a lot of things. Funny, how when talking to the prime-minister or the bloody queen herself he could be the picture of diplomacy and negotiations, but when it came to his own friends and family Ianto was absolute rubbish.

_Focus, Jones!_

“He changed time then, is that what you mean?”

_There, that was a half decent question._

““No!...Maybe…Sometimes…I don’t know! He restarted a day once. When you lot hired me, or rather, when you didn’t but he never asked anything, he never needed anything from me!!”

“And _why_ do you think that is?” Jack’s volume was still at a speaking tone, but the venom had returned with a vengeance. True to form, Gwen struck back with more of the same.

“Because some people are just good! I know that you might find that hard to believe, Jack ‘I’d-rather-murder-my-own-grandson’ Harkness, but they are out there!”

It was far below the belt but as it turned out, the captain still had it in him to surprise Ianto, because Jack skipped right over the insults and picked up what he needed to continue the conversation.

“Explain to me what good means, then.” Jack smiled, and made a scarily accurate impression of a great white shark. With good reason, because that was one explanation Gwen would not be able to resist, she was too confident in her own moral compass and Jack played right into that, used it to his own advantage.

_Still a con-artist at heart._

“Good is sacrificing yourself for the bigger picture, it’s helping people, it’s caring!-”

“Nudging people in the right direction?”

“If you have to!”

“So did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Nudge us.” Jack casually asked and Gwen seemed to realize that she was walking headlong into a trap.

“No…”

“You just said you did. You made sure this whole thing-” Jack waved between Ianto and himself “-happened, right?”

“But that was…no…I did that because you were being cruel.”

“So, you made sure I was less cruel?”

“Yes…but only to make sure-”

“That I wouldn’t object to your ideas?”

“Not just mine! His too.” She pointed at Ianto.

_Oh, you do not want to go there._

“But when I made a bad suggestion, you had me killed.” He answered.

_Never thought I’d see the day when Gwen Cooper would be rendered speechless._

“Basically, you’ve been running Torchwood for the past five years and in that time, we’ve lost four employees, granted, that’s happened before, but then again we’ve also lost our base of operations, our influence in the parliament who then hunted us until we were disbanded and to top it all off, turned us into a terrorist organisation. I am impressed.”

Ianto figured that the slow-clap was pushing it a bit, but he wasn’t going to interrupt the captain when he had a good thing going.

“You’re twisting my words! I never meant for things to go this way, it was Maes.-” Gwen was convinced of her own right “-Maes said he’d make this organisation great, that we’d be the shining paragon of humanity!”

The Welshman was transported back to what he had read that day in the tunnels.

_Singlehandedly vowed to take his people to the next level…Never backed down from the dirty work…redefined time itself for most species in the universe…The shining paragon of humanity._

Wen Greel.

The man who had built the parasite’s cage, who was almost certainly part of its capture. It was too much coincidence in one simple sentence. Ianto almost automatically opened a screen on his vortex manipulator to search for connections and, having gotten so used to handling the thing on a daily basis, did not quite anticipate the impact it would have on Gwen.

“Whoa. What…Why do you have one too, now!?”

He ignored it, while his partner tried to use this wild card to catch their co-worker off guard.

“How do we stop him?”

“What?!” She answered, proving Jack’s efforts fruitless, but handily focusing her attention back on the captain and away from Ianto.

He entered the name ‘Wen Greel’ and combined it with ‘Maes’. There were, as to be expected, quite a few results and hardly any useful ones. There was one list that caught his attention though, because it was encoded, locked, was mostly deleted and last but not least, signed off by one Mr. Greel.

_Orin Hasil_

_Silva Oisdeal_

_Tess Savant_

_Jason Sanguine_

_Maes Valentine_

_Kian Yochanan_

“Was your friend’s last name Valentine, by any chance?” he asked.

“How the bleeding hell would you know that?”

Ianto didn’t answer, but showed his results, along with the quote from Greel he’d found earlier, to Jack.

“Well, Gwen, thank you for your co-operation. Someone will be escorting you back to your cell shortly.” His partner told her and stood up.

“I don’t understand?! What are you…you can’t just leave like that!”

“Actually, I suggest you get some sleep. You’ve got some busy days ahead of you.”

“What do you mean?” She was genuinely scared.

“It’s…We’re probably going to be forced to use you as an Artron conductor, running high amounts of well, I suppose you could call it rift energy through your body. ” The Welshman took over.

“W-will that hurt?”

“Let’s put it this way, sweetheart, I’ll be as gentle with you as you were with me.” Jack snarled and left the room.

For a moment, Ianto was split between telling her more and leaving it a secret for safety reasons. In truth though, he realized that the Gwen he knew, if that person had ever really existed in the first place, wasn’t the woman sitting in that chair now. Nevertheless, it hurt to turn his back on her.

Ianto took one last look before walking away and closing the door behind him.

* * *

 

Jack thought himself pretty clever, hiding all the way down in the south-east corner of the Agency. Naturally, that was why it took Ianto a whole thirty minutes to find him in a place the size of Manhattan.

_Well, to be fair, it is a personal record in hide-and-seek._

“I wondered where you’d gone off to.” The Welshman sat down next to him and stared at the large window in front of them.

“Sorry. I just…I got angry. I don’t like being angry around people.”

“You went looking for a rooftop, and this is the best you came up with?”

“Shut up.”

“No seriously, there is a lovely ledge right around-” Jack cut him off with a kiss. “- and you’ve been drinking.”

“Yeah, but I’m immortal again, so it’s useless really.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I was going for a ‘share the liquor’ moment rather than to comment on your public inebriation.”

Jack handed the hypervodka over to Ianto.

“Where’d you get this stuff anyway? I thought we drank most of it halfway through our sixth month here.”

“Darling, if I didn’t know how to find booze on my old academy, I would consider myself a failure to the Time Agency.” He smiled and rested his hand on the Welshman’s thigh while the other man took swig before giving the vodka back to Jack. After several more moments of sharing the drink, they finally got down to real reason they were both sitting in an abandoned corner of the Agency.

“So. Gwen.” Ianto took another gulp.

“Yep. Gwen. Gwen had you guys murdered.” Jack answered, drank, and passed the bottle back.

“D’you think she plan’d it?” Alcohol always brought out that thick Cardiff accent.

“Does she ever?”

“She tries…It just tends to run away from her.-” Those big blue eyes turned back to him and for a moment, Jack had to fight the urge to kiss his lover again.

_Damn it, this stuff makes me horny._

“Gwen‘s not a bad person y’know. And I can’t believe I’m still defendin’ ‘er.”

He understood. Jack really did. Gwen had been with Torchwood almost as long as Ianto had and together, the three of them had seen more, done more than anyone could have. The memory however, was tarnished now. If it hadn't been for her, then there would have been five people sharing the burden. The load would have been lighter, less painful.        
  
_But it wasn't and that nearly destroyed us both.  
_   
His hand gripped Ianto's, who looked at him, eyes asking the inevitable question before he did.           
  
"What are we going to do with her?"        
  
"We are going to fix the universe and then put her back in a rewritten timeline, where she was never hired by me. So she won't even remember Torchwood." Jack answered.    
  
"We're gonna retcon her?"       
  
"Well, I did just fire her. It's protocol."     
_  
Is there even a protocol for a universal rewrite?       
  
_ "That seems unfair."                    
  
Jack thought that dumping Gwen back in her home, with a normal life, a loving husband and a healthy daughter was a lot of things, but unfair was not one of them.    
  
"How so?"                    
  
"You didn't fire or retcon me back when."                  
  
Ianto didn't even have to explain what he meant by that.       
  
"Because you wanted to forget and walk away. Retconning you wouldn't have been a punishment, it would have been the easy way out.-" Jack drank for courage "- We took away that which you loved the most and forced you to live your life. It's no different for Gwen. She doesn't care about us or her family, not really, not as much; it's all about the thrill of the job now."  
  
"So we're takin' that away..."  
  
"She's an addict, Ianto. It's...I've seen it before. Hell, so did you, in Suzie. There are these stages of working with Torchwood. First, you’re appalled by it. Then, you'll try and change it, after that you get depressed by it, until you accept it and even like it. That's the stage where most agents stay. Not all though, some agents start enjoying the blood and gore a bit too much. I was always afraid Owen might go that way, he never did though.-"   
 __  
Crazy, stubborn Owen, who turned out to be one of Torchwood's best in the end.  
  
"- But for those that do, it's never enough, they get desensitized to the violence and adrenaline, so they need more of it, more danger, higher risks. Finally, the only thing left for them is to create chaos, rather than chase it."  
  
"And then they start killing. Hence Gwen, Suzie..."

  
"John, Wen Greel." Jack added.

  
"Torchwood won't be the same, though. Rewriting time like that." Ianto put the Vodka to his mouth for so long that Jack was afraid he might end up choking himself.             
  
"We found Torchwood once, on our own, nothing's changed there-" he started.  
  
"Actually...That's not true. In the fixed universe, Amy's universe, the battle at Canary Wharf never happened.-"               
  
Jack's heart took the time to momentarily stop.      
_  
If that doesn't happen, then Lisa lives and Ianto..._  
  
"-Oh, don't look at me like that. My memories-" the Welshman tapped on his forehead with the neck of the bottle."- are unchanging. Like Amy, I can't forget. Just sayin’, things are going to be different."                   
  
"Jesus, you're going to be married, and have kids and _stuff_."                     
  
"Yep. And I'm going to walk away from it all."            
  
Before he could stop himself a "Why?!" escaped from him. Not that he was unhappy to hear it, and that was probably selfish, or maybe just normal. In any case, his emotions were very confused on the subject.  
  
"Can you imagine? One day Lisa's going to wake up next to a complete stranger. You don't just say 'Oh hey, love, I'm sorry but I developed a severe case of post-traumatic stress and amnesia overnight. Also, I'm now in love with a man. Could you pass me the milk please?'-" Ianto grimaced at his own morbid joke.              
  
"-Besides, it's not like I have a realistic image of her in my head anymore, not after all the time I've spend keeping her on a pedestal. Or the kid, what's he, or she, going to do with a father who has no emotional connection to them whatsoever. I've been there; it's not a good thing. No, it’s better to fake my own death and then convince you to hire me again."                    
  
"Chances are I'll still have my memories, or at least the ability to regain them. That already happened, you know."

“Did it?” The Welshman asked.

“Yeah. For some reason the parasite made us think you were killed during the rise of Abbadon.”

“Why would it do that?”

“I’ll be damned if I know.”

“No, hang on. Let’s see, what were the direct consequences of a timeline without me, starting from that point? Did you go with the Doctor?”

“I did, I met Martha, got my ass locked up for a year that never was and…”

“And?” 

“And went to 1927 after that.” 

“As opposed to?” 

“Going home to you, of course. What the hell else was I supposed to do?!” Jack playfully slapped the thigh he’d been holding onto just seconds ago.

“So if I had been dead, you wouldn’t have come back to Torchwood?”

“Sounds about right.”

“I’m flattered.” Ianto deadpanned.

“Hey, you better be, that was damn romantic, abandoning all of time and space for you.” He snarked right back. 

“Oh sure, I would’ve been downright swooning if you hadn’t been an arse and added ‘All of you’ right after your big romantic gesture.”

Jack snorted.

It could’ve been a nasty conversation, if not for the fact that they had both made quite a few mistakes along the way. So, instead, it seemed they had finally settled on teasing each other with it, rather than seriously blaming each other for it again.

“So, 1927-” Ianto continued “- What happened in 1927?”

“Nothing much, had a stint with an Italian guy stealing my name…You know what, I think his name was Colasante.” 

“That’s probably why the Colasante we have in here wanted you to meet her farther. Why now though?”

“Well, it ended kinda nasty, He told the crazy villagers I was immortal, they chained me up and then repeatedly killed me.”

“Jesus, Jack.” Ianto sighed and downed more vodka.

“Yeah, come to think of it, the whole thing was a bit Christ-like, actually.” 

“Comparing ourselves to the Lord Almighty now? And here I was, thinking your ego couldn’t get any bigger.” The Welshman nudged him against his shoulder.

“Oh, Har har har, anyway, that was it really. Then I decided that maybe I was better off in the 21th century and when I did return, my VM went back into lockdown.”

“So, there wasn’t anything that could connect this to the parasite.”

“They took my blood. Maybe they figured out a way to duplicate my immortality? You know, feed the parasite.”

“I thought that your immortality wasn’t a physical thing.”

“It’s a morphic field thing though, which is what basically makes my DNA. So, while they wouldn’t have been able to see or duplicate it in the literal sense, the general code of my immortality would still be in there somewhere.”

“Seems plausible enough.”

“Yeah. We’ll never know for sure, your premature death could’ve easily influenced about a thousand other things.”

They heard footsteps down the hallway and before long, a pair of white boots appeared in their view, followed by hands on hips and a cranky looking Vex. “-Really, gentlemen? Booze? It’s not even dinnertime yet. ”

“Oh, fuck off. The situation called for it.” Jack grumbled. After spending the last few months with the queen of admonishing, he was not up for another lecture on proper behavior. Angelica threw her hands up in defeat and handed Ianto, not him, a tablet.

“We managed to put Cooper away, although she didn’t exactly go willingly.”

“Where’s Amy?” Ianto asked, while trying to read the tablet.

“She got into another fight with your frie…co-worker when we were trying to get her back to the cell. Turns out a gap between your teeth is no hindrance when it comes to biting. Rory is stitching her up now.”

For a moment, the chatter died down, and Angelica just stood there, awkwardly trying to formulate some kind of sentence.

“-So, I’m guessing you’ll want the cannon ready A.S.A.P.? Get this thing over with. Finishing the fight. Going back home.” She smiled a bit sourly. The Captain decided she looked very ugly with it.

“Angie, is there something you want to say?” Ianto replied.

“I was just wondering if you’ve decided yet.”

“Decided what?” Ianto replied.

“Whetherornotyourjoiningupwhenallofthisisdone.”

Jack hadn’t understood a word of that, but his partner was apparently fluent in the Agent’s rattling.

“Ah. Well, we were just talking about that, going back might pose quite a few problems, so yeah. I’ll…I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. He can join up too by the way, if he wants to.” She waved at Jack

“He is sitting right here and can speak for himself, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, we know you can talk. _Trust me,_ we know.”

Vex made a few jittery moves, wished them a good night and told them there was a team meeting at ten the next morning. Then she left, leaving the two men to their own devices. Any conversation they were having before, however, had been cut off by the abrupt change in atmosphere and Jack didn’t revisit the subject of the temporal changes until much, much later.

It was three in the morning according to Ianto’s vortex manipulator (and wasn’t that a bit of a mindfuck, Ianto, of all people, owning one of those) when it occurred to him that he’d basically been asked to rejoin the Time Agency and work there alongside his partner.

He looked over to the Welshman, who was long asleep, even though Jack was absently drawing figures into his lovers back with his hands. He’d started doing it a few years ago, when Ianto was still suffering from nightmares of One, though, nowadays it was more of a game, because as soon as he’d pressed his fingers in a bit too hard, or came to close to stroking his ear, Ianto would actually growl a bit in his sleep.

Yeah, okay, he was bored a lot at night, so sue him.

The point was, if they stayed here, outside of time while the universe rewrote itself, they wouldn’t be included in it, thus removing every inch of them from history. His parents would have only had one child ( _perhaps that would save Gray_ his mind whispered), his friends at the Agency would meet different people, Rose and the Doctor would never take him with them, he would never end up at Torchwood, Melissa and Stephen would never be born, Alex would not die, Owen’s fiancée might have lived, Toshiko would still be trapped in UNIT, Lisa would marry someone else and Gwen would never be hired.

Jack wasn’t sure if Ianto knew what he’d be leaving behind exactly, but by now he knew better than to try and convince the stubborn ass once he had made up his mind. He poked, the large mass next to him growled and Jack snickered.

The redhead and her husband would probably return and remember this as a fond adventure, for them the world would finally be right again. Besides, they weren’t done travelling with the Doctor yet. It was funny how he didn’t feel envious of that anymore, the risk just didn’t really seem worth it anymore. Vex could go back, but it wouldn’t really affect her timeline. She hadn’t been in the universe when the changes occurred and the 51st century was so far removed from the epicentre of it that her past would just write her out the same way it had the first time.

So, that just left the two of them in limbo. Jack would do it, no questions asked. It was simple; he had very little left on earth, aside from a few mistakes he’d be happy to erase. There was just one thing he couldn’t quite get out of his mind:

_I was mortal. This thing, this parasite found a way to make me human again. Destroying it would mean giving that up._

He’d only just gotten used to the concept of dying permanently again, and there had been a very short moment where he’d thought that maybe he could just grow old with Ianto. The thought of keeping that monster out there, so he’d be able to die someday was tempting, but not if that meant he’d have to miss out on living with Ianto.

_Just this once, trust that things will work out for the better._

Whatever happened, they would all know by tomorrow.

* * *

_Cardiff, 2011_

 

_“Where have you been?”_

_He was always there when you needed him. You only had to turn your back and all your wishes would be fulfilled in an instant._

_Past tense._

_Because it has been a year since you’ve last seen him. A year since Ianto died, Jack ran off and Torchwood dismantled. A year of baby bottles, dirty diapers and impossible boredom. It’s a miracle you haven’t gone mad yet._

_You screamed in your isolation._

_This wasn’t how it was supposed to be._

_But he’s back now, so it’s all water under the bridge. If only he wasn’t so damn arrogant about the whole thing._

_“I was busy. There were a few tweaks in the system.”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“It means I’m ready now.”_

_“Ready for what?”_

_Maes turns to you and smiles in a very unsettling way._

_“Let me guess? You want adventure? To save people?” He’s answering his own question before you can. “Of course you do. Well, worry no more, you’ll get what’s due to you.-” Normally, he makes you feel like the star of the show, but now, you’re like an afterthought._

_Something he no longer needs._

_“-This will be the trip of a lifetime.-”_

_You don’t understand, but Maes just strokes your cheek, eyes changing, face becoming less human with every second._

_"-Good luck, Gwen Cooper, See you on the other side."_

_And just like that, you’re alone on the beach again._

_Two days later, the government shows up and Jack comes storming in and you vow to never look back again._ _This will be the biggest thrill of your life._


	25. Your time is now.

_Hera, 4916_

The counter needed cleaning and the supplies in the back could use some attention as well, which was probably why Kian wasn’t anywhere to be found. Maes had been disgruntled to have to open the shop at eleven this morning already, because well, he’d done it yesterday too. It wasn’t like his friend either, sure, you don’t shake a decade’s worth of military discipline off easily but the man had always been punctual, even in training. As such, they’d always managed to keep to alternating between morning and afternoon shift.

_You better share whatever booty you’ve got lying in your bed right now with me tonight, man._

The first few customers were regulars, a couple of old ladies, an Apalapucian hotshot and (oddly enough) a relaxed Sycorax. Their surf-shop was a smashing success, well, as much as a tiny establishment in the back-end of nowhere could be, but it worked when combined with a rather luxurious pension, a sorely earned one that is, they did blunder through toxic waste and irradiated fire rounds for the good of the galaxy, so, yeah.

“No, No. Mrs. Jixtxitriz-” He still couldn’t pronounce that right. “-We really can’t make your board fluorescent, it scares the fish.” 

She clacked through an answer.

“Well, I can’t help it that you’re nocturnal!”

Her four arms were crossed over each other, and to be frank, he liked it that way. At least now, those dangly strings weren’t trying to grab his ass.

“I mean it, big fish! Like, leviathan-sized. Cruise ships get eaten if they set out here at night.-” She interrupted him again. “- How do I know it’s the lights? Well, because I’ve been here for over two years now and the coast guard warns us about these things all the time.”

An agitated prrrt and a snap of her beak was his last warning.

“Fine, alright. I’ll see what I can do, but it’s on you, okay? Don’t come crying to me if you get stuck in the belly of a whale.”

She turned around and sauntered out of the shop as Maes dropped his head in his arms and rested them on the counter. Difficult customers were one thing, but dealing with them when you had an enormous hangover was another. He was about ready to kill Kian but the bastard still wasn’t picking up his phone.

For a good ten minutes, the shop stayed quiet, it was practically noon so most people were already in the water or at least out of the blazing hot sun. Maes could feel himself drooping off and as such, only barely registered that the bell on door clanged, signaling a new potential buyer.

Hera, as a planet, wasn’t exactly known for its belligerent workers, which was why he felt no obligation to actually assist this new customer. Maes was more content just floating around between sleep and consciousness.

_If they need anything, they’ll ask._

When said customer however, stood right next to him, it was kind of impossible to ignore. Not strange, given the fact that the guy stood out like an ice cream in the desert. He was a black-haired man and not wearing anything remotely beach-related, making him look like a dark shadow in their brightly coloured little shack.

“Can I…help you, sir?”

“Lieutenant Valentine, I presume?” The pale guy groused and Maes got an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He’d hoped to never hear that title again. 

“It’s just Maes nowadays, sir.” he squared his shoulders and waited for the inevitable army jargon to drop.

“You were in New Kalika during the Gallifreyan Storm.”

“I was.” Maes clenched his jaw. The Storm wasn’t something he wanted to remember. Some people said that the legendary Time Lords had been responsible for the mess out there. They theorized that the agonizing crawl of slow time was more than just the result of a hallucinogenic. That’s when everyone started calling it Gallifreyan. Load of bollocks if you asked him, a lot of terrible things happened in that city, but he hadn’t seen demigods sprout from the sky. 

“Good. We need to perform some…tests…on you. Make sure you’re not a liability.”

“Wait, hang on, it’s been six years since then. If I was gonna go bonkers, I think I would’ve done so already.”

The man just looked at him in disdain. “Regardless, we’d like you to come with us.”

“I’m not just going to go with the first stranger who walks into my shop. Who are you anyway?”

“Wen Greel, Torchwood.”

The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach grew, but the truth was, you didn’t say no to the institute, or rather, you could, but most people who did that were never heard from again.

“Just…let me go get my gear.”

 

* * *

_Los Angeles, 4917_

If he stretched his neck, he could almost see the skyline reflected against the big domes of the institute. Maes was glad he knew this from experience, because right now, he couldn’t even move if he wanted to. They took samples, and a lot of them. Kian was lying in the corner, he was doing even worse because his tests were more _invasive_. There were a couple of others, males, females, hermaphrodites, all locked up in cells like this. Small, concrete rooms, with a few high windows using something that resembled glass, but probably wasn’t.

It was funny, or no, it was _morbid_ to think that only half a decade ago most of the prisoners in this block had been the enemy, the ones they’d been asked to fight. Now though, everyone who had been at the Storm was an unlikely ally. The real adversary? The agents patrolling their halls, the doctors examining their bodies and the officers crushing their spirits.

Everyone kept telling them that it was just a few days, that they’d be back home in no time, but this was weeks ago. Then they’d stopped saying it. Then they didn’t spoke at all. It was hard to understand, why them? Why now? All Maes knew was that it had something to do with the Storm.

_The Time Lords._

“Get patient seven.”

They refused to use his name, he imagined it made things easier, to cut up a stranger, rather than an actual human being.

It wasn’t until they reached the lab that he realized today would be different, because Greel was there. Standing in the corner, appraising whatever gizmo’s they planned to use on the prisoners.

“You! Why?! Why us?! What’s happening!?! _Tell me!!_ ” He struggled against the three agents holding him, but Greel refused to even look at him.

“Bring in the others, I want to see what they can do together.-”

They tried to gag him and succeeded eventually, but not before Maes had bitten off at least two ears and broke a hand. That’s when Kian was rolled into the room to his left, on a gurney of sorts, while others were placed on his right.

“-Twenty three then? They’re the only ones who survived?”

“Yes sir, the others, they…became unstable. Dissipated, you see.” A ratty looking assistant told him. 

“Right, then. Start the procedure.”

The scientists turned him around and started shooting metal rods into his skin. He screamed, as did the others, but in a stroke of luck the woman to his right managed to break free from her bonds, she kicked, wrestled and pushed one of her handlers against Maes’s gurney, tipping it to the floor. Even though the landing made him see stars, he got up before the agents did. Using every scrap of strength he had left and a decade’s worth of military training Maes managed to take down three of his enemies. The other prisoners were following their example and within minutes they had created a full-scale riot.

Except Kian wasn’t moving.

The others were already running, but his friend…couldn’t.

“Kian! Dude! We have to go! C’mon, get up.” 

He didn’t move.

That’s when Maes noticed the rods in his back, attached to the machine purring softly in the distance.

“Kian?”

The young man’s eyes were moving rapidly, but never focused enough to actually see the world around him. 

“Ki…wake up…”

The days of pain, insomnia and hunger were finally catching up to Maes. He distantly registered that the agents were getting back-up and that if he wanted to escape, it had to be now.

_I can’t leave. Not without him, but what can I…?_

His hands picked up a gun from a fallen agent and cocked it without hesitation. The barrel aimed steadily at a very shocked Greel. 

“What are you doing to him?!”

“I…I…I…” The man stammered

“ _Talk!_ ”

The bastard stood up and smoothed his clothing before calmly explaining. “We’re discovering something amazing!-” Maes really didn’t like the gleeful look on his face. “-A miracle happened back on Kalika.”

“What happened there was a nightmare, you dick.”

“There were Gallifreyans, Valentine, actual Time Lords, traveling through the temporal vortex! All of that was just theoretical until you came back. Something changed in you, in everyone there.-” The other agents were dragging his cellmates back in the room. “-Your morphic field, it became more resilient, given the right circumstances, we believe we can make you strong enough to travel through the vortex.-“he motioned to Kian. “- Can’t you see we’re making him stronger? Imagine the good he could do. The mistakes we could fix!”    
  
“And that warranted you to torture us, to use us?!”

“It was necessary. For the greater good! Don’t you understand? You’ll be the one of first humans to travel through time. It’s a privilege! ”

Maes really wished the asshole would just stop smiling,

“If this is such a boon, why don’t you go try it?! You’ve learned what you needed from us! Warp your field, show me what a man you are.”

“Don’t you understand? _Torchwood needs me._ They need a leader who can thrust them into greatness. _I am the heart_ of this! The beating center of the future. ”

“You coward! You selfish bastard! You’re just scared. You can’t make the sacrifice, so someone else has to!?”

For many years to come, Maes would regret not being faster in that moment, he would regret not pulling the trigger when he had the chance. Because when he finally got to that point, Greel’s lackeys had gotten close enough to grab him, overpower him, and put him right back on the gurney.

There were six captives left; two women, four men, including him and Kian. The others were either dead or, Maes could only hope, liberated.

He couldn’t feel the scientists re-attaching the cables, but he sure as hell could feel it when they turned the machines on. The white hot pain raced through his bones, his mind was floating, farther and farther away. In the distance he thought he could hear the sound of drums, but chose to fly to the scent of rum and the taste of raspberries instead. Eventually, when everything that made him who he was had disappeared in a blue haze, the shards of a man? Person? Soul? Thing? Drifted back to earth.

Eyes opened, and the ceiling stared back at him. Then he remembered he wasn’t alone and turned to his...

_There is a word for this._

For a moment, Kian’s bright blue eyes focused on him. As if he was slowly waking up from a dream. His friend… _that was the word…_ smiled said “Maes, hey man, see you on the other side _._ ” before slipping away one last time.

He tried to cry, but his body couldn’t. No fluids, he would realize this later when it was irrelevant, but at the time all he could do was croak a bit as Kian turned into orange specks of light.

The world turned dark once more, and Maes really didn’t see the point in ever waking up again. However, there were voices in the distance and they didn’t sound at all like the pleasant dreams he was almost having.

“Bring him back!”

_No. No, I can’t, I don’t want to._

“I don’t care how you do it! Just do it! Forget about the others, they don’t matter! They’re expendable.”

_Please, leave me. It doesn’t matter anymore!_

But his heart rate was already climbing, his blood was flowing, and the pain returned in full force. Maes screamed in agony and smelled the burning flesh on his back.

People were cheering, but that couldn’t be, because Kian was dead and so, he noticed, were all the other prisoners. Why would they be happy about that?

The monster, Greel, clasped his hand on Maes’s shoulder.

“Well done, my boy. Well done! You survived!”

“Why me? Why did I live?”The world was spinning, his stomach was doing somersaults.

“Some people are just born talented!”

Greel smiled and Maes nearly choked on his own vomit.

 

* * *

 

_Los Angeles, 4918_

It was as if his fighting spirit had abandoned him. Maes truly couldn’t see the point in objecting to the tests anymore, it wasn’t like he could stop them. So he let them cart him from test to test, the pain all but became a minor nuisance. It never reached him anyway.

If anything, the experiments gave him a chance to let go of the world around him.

With every shock, he flew farther.

The doctors noted that it took their subject longer and longer to wake up. They’d been forced to declare him clinically brain-dead four times now, even though always he woke up fully cognizant mere minutes later.

Greel, much to Maes’s delight (or what was left of that), got more frustrated with every failed procedure.

One day, (they never told him which day, or what time, or anything really) he tried to die again. The scientists must’ve known, because just before slipping into that beautiful darkness once more, Maes heard them.

“Oh my God!”

“That’s…that’s not possible.”

Regardless of their shock, he floated off, but instead of following the rum-raspberries or the drums, Maes began heading towards the blue string above him. The closer he came, the more it looked like a dark, whirling hurricane and if he’d had any common sense left, the whisps of what was once a human would turn back, but he didn’t.

He allowed himself to be rushed along the streams, forgetting even more of what he used to be. Until he saw shapes in the specks, reflections of history. A meteor killing giant reptiles with a big flash, men flogging slaves, trenches filled with soldiers, a nuclear blast, on and on it went, until finally, he saw himself:  
Writhing on a cold metal table, doctors running around him, he knew the scene, but not what came after and in an unusual bout of curiosity, touched the mirror image. With a short lurch, he became a part of the scene, standing… _Gods, I haven’t stood upright in months..._ in the corner of the room, while his other self was having seizures on the table.

One of the scientists looked up, and saw Maes.

“Oh my God!”

A second joined in and pointed at him.

“That’s…that’s not possible.” 

A few seconds later, the Maes on the table disappeared and everyone focused on the one in the corner. Not long after that, Greel came running in.

“We did it! He traveled backwards. He actually traveled through time.”

“Sir,-” Greel ratty assistant tugged on his sleeve. “-sir, he’s loose…unrestrained.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to him yet, but she was right. He _was_ loose. He was strong enough to stand, whatever wounds he’d had on the table were gone, filled up by the blue specks. Maes was stronger, and more importantly…

_Free._

“Grab him before he goes back into the vortex again.”

_Oh, so that’s what it is._

Not one to ignore good advice, Maes reached out to the vortex again and disappeared. This time though, he entered it with a purpose. Technically, he could escape, but what was the point in that when those evil bastards would still be walking around? So, he tried to aim for a few seconds later in time, returning to the room, right behind the biggest, most dangerous agent he could find.

And then snapped his neck.

He killed three more of them before the vortex started slipping away from him, he couldn’t reach it anymore, his mind wasn’t working properly, the pain from before returned in tenfold and of course Torchwood took the opportunity to capture him again.

When the first agent grabbed his arm, Maes instinctively closed his eyes. Much to his surprise however, he could still see her. The energy she had, her life as it flowed through her. It was everything they’d taken from him and everything he needed to travel again. Something dark in him stirred, woke, and ate away at him. Whispering horrible intentions into his ear.

_Take it from them. Feast on them. Swallow them, like the fish on Hera, until they know nothing but us, until they wish for nothing more than us. They deserve nothing less._

Whether it was desperation, madness or anger that drove him, he listened. And when he opened his eyes again, it wasn’t Maes smiling back at the hapless Torchwood agent as she disintegrated into nothing.

The newborn being turned around, waltzed up to Greel, grabbed him by the neck and gave him the same treatment as the agent. This new target was, unfortunately, better prepared than the last, and managed to draw a gun.

_That won’t help you now._

It told Greel, and despite never opening its mouth, he heard the words. 

The weapon was ancient, borrowed from the archives in the event of an accident such as this. Wen aimed for the first shoulder and fired. 

The humanlike creature twitched and smiled, but showed no signs of feeling the shot otherwise.

Wen shot again, this time in the other shoulder. Immediately, the energy transfer seized.

Maes shook and howled. It had been outsmarted by Torchwood again.

“Take him to the basement! Quickly now, before he can do more damage. ”

 

* * *

_Los Angeles, 4922_

 

The darkness.

The neverending darkness.

And the loneliness.

It…no he… _I am still a person, a human, I am still here_ …howled against the isolation, begged for light. For anything other than where he was now.

Maes longed to enter the vortex again. It was all he wanted, but as long as he was in here, alone, he couldn’t. There wasn’t enough energy.

Hell, he feared there wasn’t even enough energy to keep himself together.

Sometimes he had three fingers, then an extra toe, or a wing, growing haphazardly out of his back. He was sure that a while back, his eye had disappeared, only to reappear on the wrong side of his face.

It was as if his own body couldn’t understand what shape it was meant to be anymore.

They hadn’t fed him in ages, he hadn’t drank anything, but somehow, he wasn’t dead yet.

_How is that even possible?_

That didn’t mean he wasn’t hungry. Because he was. Maes was starving, ravished, just not for food. For something else, something much more essential.

Human energy.

There were no other words he could ascribe to it. He could feel them moving above him and now, as they drew closer and closer to his huge prison, he started recognizing them. The darkest, vilest of them, he had felt that first day on Hera.

_Greel…_

The urge to feed was licking at his consciousness. Soon, he would eat, he would avenge.

The first flash of light blinded him, but his eyes adapted faster than they did in the past and Maes got up from his spot in the large cavern, now finally visible.

Not long after that, men and women wearing white entered carrying massive cannons and shields, probably to protect them from him.

_It won’t work, I’ll devour you anyway._

“Valentine, my old friend! So good to see you again.” Greel looked older, his hair was going grey, and the white coat only made his skin look even paler, more frail.

Maes didn’t answer; he barely knew how to talk anymore. He did however, lunged for the bastard’s throat.

Of course, Greel saw that coming, and his lackeys used their weapons. The shots tore at him, to his very core, and for the first time in years, Maes felt _pain_ again.

“Now, Now. There’s no need for that.”

“What d’you want!?” He spat out.

“It’s time to make one last sacrifice Maes. For all of us.”

“ _Fuck you!_ ”

“You will lift us higher than we’ve ever gone before; we won’t just be protecting the universe, but the past and the future as well.” 

“No…not with me, not this time.”

Revenge would have to wait, if he could only escape, wait for a few years, gather his strength. Then he would be able to defeat them. All of them, prevent them from ever existing in the first place.

With all his might, Maes began gathering energy again. Not by touching the agents, but by just feeling them, by seeing them, recognizing them as humans and harnessing every emotion they felt for him.

Their demeanor changed, they became frightened; all shaking hands and wide eyes.

“It’s him! He’s doing this. Don’t let it distract you!” Greel was yelling but even he was feeling the effects, because not a second later, the older man was running away from him. 

Maes pursued.

The lights in these corridors were dim and while he was used to it now, his prey wasn’t so lucky.

_I’m better than these monsters, I can take them. All I need is…_

The other agents had shaken off their fear, and he could feel them approaching fast. The first volley caught up with him not long after that.

He kept chasing.

The second one made him stumble.

The third was agonizing and the fourth brought him to his knees. He sat there, shivering, trying to keep his fingers, hands, arms from dissolving into nothing.

_It’s not too late, I can still take them._

There was so much hate for these strangers, so much pain that at long last it spilled out.

“I will kill every! Last! One of you!”

He howled and used all his abilities to suck the agents dry. That worked, they were nothing more than dust when Maes continued his pursuit. His newfound energy filled him completely; there were stars in his vision, lights everywhere.

Before a force as powerful as gravity smacked him sideways against the wall of the hallway.

“I should kill you for that, but I’m too close to my goals now.”

_He was waiting for me…_

Greel used one of the large guns his agents had to shoot again. Maes’s skull banged against the glass-encased Torchwood symbol.

His skin began melting.

His bones were growing weaker.

_It’s happening, I’m finally dying._

Another shot, and his upper body made a hollow sound before splattering all over the wall. The rest soon followed, until his physical presence was nothing more than a stain on the Torchwood logo.

But still he wasn’t dead. Or maybe he was, but _it_ wasn’t; the being that traveled through time and space while the body was tortured on an operating table.

Regardless, when _it_ tried to move, Greel sprung yet another trap. A portable cage, made from an energy it couldn’t eat.

“I win.” The human looked very smug.

_“No you didn’t. I’m dead. An echo of what I was. You can’t perform tests on this, not without me devouring you.”_

“I don’t need to. You see this-” He moved forward, and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a large contraption covering his arm up to the elbow. “- This is you. Without the…side-effects.-” His gaze turned to the wall. “- I call it a vortex manipulator.”

_“You’ll regret this.”_

“I sincerely doubt that. There is, however, one little nag. The thing about time travel is that it gets terribly dangerous to stay in the time stream after a while. We could become a victim to our own meddling. Wouldn’t want that, now would we? So, in order to maintain our past, everything that’s led up to this -”

_“Those vile experiments!!”_

“Those too. In order to keep all of that in place, we’re going to find a space for ourselves outside of time, where we can monitor everything and anyone who would pose a threat.”

_“Why are you telling me this?”_

“Because you’ll be the one to lead us there. The vortex manipulator is a beautiful thing, but it can’t perform on a grand scale like you do.”

_“I don’t expect that I’ll have to do this willingly?”_

“Obviously not. We’re going to rearrange your cavern. Turn it into one big engine and then, because you killed all those brave men and women back there, we’re going to bury you. So that no-one will ever fall to your evil again.”

_“Evil? I’ll show you evil!!”_

“You will most certainly not. Your darkness will always be overshadowed by the white light of the Time Agency.”

_“The what? You pretentious prick! Time isn’t something you can police just because you feel like it. It’s a force of nature!”  
_

“Watch me.”

_“Oh I will, Greel. I’ll watch, I’ll observe and I’ll wait until someone slips up. That’s when I’ll wipe you, your organisation and everything related to it from existence.”_

“Maes, I have defeated you over and over again. What on earth would you possibly use to accomplish that Herculean task?” The human smirked.

Maes felt that it couldn’t let the man walk away without one last warning, one last promise, spoken in sounds because that made it so much more true than thoughts broadcasted into space. So it focused a part of its energy on vibrating the air. That worked. There was still a chance it could influence the world around it. It was not dead. So, with a screech that was hardly equal to his old voice, Maes spoke:

“All I need is time.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing you’ll have plenty of that down here, then.” Greel chuckled as more agents swarmed the corridor. They moved Maes back to the main cavern and left it to watch the construction of the new cage. After that, they used it for one last test.

Then they turned off the lights.

It didn’t bother Maes, after all, what good was light without eyes?

_I’m better than these monsters, I can take them. All I need is time._

****

* * *

_Time Agency, ----._

 

Energy does not dream, it does not sleep and because of that Maes, or the Parasite as they called it above, had simply stayed in stasis, listening to the dim energies on the surface. The fools were fighting again. They did that so often.

It could feel the combatting forces move in closer. There was explosive energy, burning through the simple energy of life. _  
_

_Just a little farther._

_One more shot and it will shatter._

That’s when the walls came crashing down, the null fields shut itself down and life came gushing into the cold damp nothingness that was its home.

Maes took a big gulp, focused, and destroyed his remaining shackles. 

_It’s time._


	26. Your number has been called.

* * *

 

_Time Agency, ----._

Rory figured that no-one from their team had gotten a lot of sleep. He knew that Amy had been tossing and turning all night. The black rings under Ms. Vex her eyes were telling him plenty and the two men, well, he couldn't imagine them getting some good rest.                
  
That said, they were all in the conference room by ten-ish. Ianto, proving Rory’s theory of them not sleeping, had made an indecent amount of coffee. Or maybe he just quelled his nerves that way. Whatever the reason, everyone took advantage of the fact and it wasn't until their third cup that someone came down to business.           
  
That someone was his wife, much to Rory's surprise.    
          
"So, what's gonna happen today?" Amy asked, mouth still full of toast.  
  
The Welshman tsk'ed at her manners before explaining the situation.  
  
"We've found our connection, the cannon is finished-"               
  
"Mostly finished." Angelica grumbled.                
  
"-mostly finished." he amended. "It's really just a matter of momentarily running Artron energy through Gwen’s field, wait for the parasite while charging the cannon and firing it. Also, preventing anything that could compromise those actions."

“Which is easier said than done.-” Jack added. “-Because I don’t think Gwen’s going to go willingly, the parasite might have something up his sleeve and that cannon could break down at any moment. Fickle technology, you know.” 

“Maybe we could…wait a few more weeks? To you know, finish the plan.” Rory suggested.

“Chances are it’ll notice Gwen is missing. Come after us when we’re not expecting it. We could take the risk, but every day we wait, is one we can get attacked.” Ianto again.

“The point is, we need securities, back-up. If something goes wrong, we need to anticipate it.-” Angelica sighed “- and for that, we need manpower; engineers to adjust the weapon, guards to hold Cooper down and soldiers to counter the parasite’s moves, not to mention medics, a field leader and Gods know what else.” 

“You keep saying that as if we don’t have all those people already!-” his wife hopped off her chair and promptly began assigning roles.

“-Field leader-” she put her hand on Ianto’s shoulder.

“-Engineer-” Amy pointed at Angie .

“- Soldier-slash-engineer-” That was Jack. 

“-Medic-” She kissed Rory’s cheek.

“- And guard!” his wife straightened her coat to imply herself. 

“Yeah, in case you missed it, I said _soldiers, guards, engineers, medics_. As in plural. I can’t see every mishap in the gun on one glance, neither can I fix it. Cooper has already proven she can kick your ass if she has too and though he might not believe it, even Harkin can’t fix the cannon and hold off the parasite at the same time.” The Time Agent countered, and Amy faltered. 

“He might not, but we have two perfectly fine CIA-agents and Hart in the cells downstairs.-” Ianto said. This however, did not sit well with Jack.

“Wow, hold on, Esther I’ll agree to and Rex might…and that’s a big might mind you…might help but John’s a rabid dog, letting him run around will most likely get us all killed.”

“Put a dog on a leash and he’ll go no further than you want him to.” Angelica supplied, and while Jack cast a questioning look at her, Amy explained the situation further.

“We gave him a shock collar, so to speak. Johnny-boy tries to turn on us? We zap his ass into next year.-”

“You really want to give him of all people information on the parasite, what we’re planning to do here?” Jack again.

“He kinda knows a lot of it already.” His wife hesitated before telling the captain that.

“To be honest, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, John’s been a prime source of good information on our case.” Ianto added.

“Once in a blue moon, eh?-” Angelica snorted “- Lang will know how to work with 51st century technology, he can help us keep that cannon operational.”

“Or he could sabotage it.” Jack sneered.

“He could, but then what? He’d be stuck here, either with us or as fodder for the parasite. If we promise him a release in exchange for co-operation, he’ll bite.” Angie again.

“Alright, I’m obviously outnumbered here. Just, let me be the one to talk Rex and Esther, see what little credibility I have left with them.” the captain put his hands up in defeat while the others moved out to retrieve their ‘prisoners.’

A good ten minutes later, both CIA-agents were admitted into the conference room. The first thing Rory noticed was the look of wonder on the woman’s face, not unlike Amy’s when she set foot on a new planet. They hadn’t seen much of the Agency during their capture. Hell, he wagered they hadn’t seen much of outer space in general, so to them, this would not be unlike stepping into the TARDIS for the very first time.

Of course, then he got a glimpse of the other guy, who just looked like he had stepped into something nasty.

“Harkness, you better damn well have a very, very good explanation for all of this.” The man growled. 

“A time-traveling alien is destroying the universe; we thought you might be involved.” Jack deadpanned, which earned him a despairing look from his partner.

Although, agent Matheson just sat down and replied with a terse “Well, at least you’re upfront about it this time.” before Ianto handed the captain a tablet with the necessary details.

"Alright, alright, here's the deal-"          
  
"Should we be taking notes?" Esther asked, to which Ianto smiled and shook his head.         
  
Jack continued.            
  
"-You're probably wondering where we are right now, well wonder no more: this is the Time-Agency. Built in the 49th century, by Torchwood apparently, and relocated to one millisecond out of time not long after that. Its purpose was to make sure history would stay intact by preventing damage to the timeline with the help of these babies." He showed them his vortex manipulator.                 
  
"So you're a...Time Agent, then?" Rex concluded.          
  
"Yes I was, for about a decade, before they wiped two years of memories from my mind for a crime I committed back then. No, I don't know what it was. What I do know is that the Agency was into way worse stuff than me. Like locking monsters into their basement. Of course, after spending two hundred years in the basement, said monster was forgotten and pushed back to gossip and legend, until a bunch of corrupt Agents attacked the place and accidently broke it out. Now that thing's set free into the universe and guess what? We got the short end of the deal. You see, it feeds off of morphic fields-"             
  
"The Miracle!" Esther remarked.           
  
"-Hush, I'm getting to that. The Temporal Parasite, as it's called, feeds off morphic fields by taking our quantum energy, only to then turn it into temporal energy, which allows it to travel through time.-"   
  
"Hang on, hang on! I'm not getting this, for one: what's a morphic field?" Rex asked. Ianto took over there.                 
  
"It's an energy field that surrounds every living thing and is the designer code for who we are. If DNA is the building-blocks of our bodies, then the morphic field is the manual on how to put them together. Quantum energy is a part of that. It's also the energy we release with strong emotions, like anger, or love."

Rory noticed that Jack had sneakily put his hand on the Welshman's thigh under the table before continuing.       
  
"- Yeah? You getting this? Quantum energy equals emotion, Morphic field equals DNA code plus emotions and temporal energy equals time travel?.-"       
  
Rex just glared.            
  
-Okay then, moving on. Because the parasite feeds on morphic fields, it's lost whatever field it had a long time ago, leaving it shapeless, powerless, like a ghost, unless it can bond with another living thing. Plus, if the legends are true that lack creates a sense constant agonizing hunger. So, it started looking for a food-source. Now, I have a hyperactive field, littered with an overabundance of temporal and quantum energy, making me immortal and the perfect lunch for that thing. Except, it's not enough, the parasite needs more than just me. So, rather than just stick around, it backed up, found a temporary lifeline and began messing with time itself, putting up several events which created-" he turned to Esther, who squeaked:      
  
"The Miracle!"              
  
"- Exactly. But the story doesn't end there. You see, time has other protectors aside from the Agency. Now, it managed to take out the most powerful and obvious one first, an alien known as the Doctor, we're not sure what has happened to him, but we know it's grave enough to stop him from doing his job. The second protector was significantly weaker-"  
  
"Oi!" That was Amy, grumbling it the corner.  
  
"-You know it's true.-" Jack shushed "- in case anyone missed it: Number two was Mrs. Pond over there. She has the remarkable ability to remember erased timelines. Now her disappearance and that of the Doctor destroyed one timeline and created a second one. It wasn't enough though, because there was a third watcher, someone who gained the ability to remember only after his death. Ianto Jones!"            
  
"Hello." Ianto raised his hand and waved.          
  
"Alright Harkness, you can stop swooning now.-" Rex snarked. "-You better be careful, I hear he has a habit of turning up in other people's beds."         
  
"Bit late for that." The welshman smiled.           
  
"Ahem, right,-" Jack called the attention back to topic once again "-So, unlike the Doctor, the parasite didn't manage to kill Ianto or Amy, perhaps he was weakened from whatever he did to the Doctor or maybe he just didn't feel the need to. We don't know, for some reason, he put them away in his own cage, the Agency, trapping them for a year while we were living in a third timeline.-"           
  
"That's all good and well, but you still haven't explained why we're here and why you've kept us prison the past few days." The CIA-agent interrupted.           
  
"Remember that bond thing I described, that person that can help the parasite become human? Well, he or she was present during our little standoff at Mesa."             
  
"Okay so one of us was helping this thing with time meddling? Is that even a bad thing? To change history? No-one would know, if not for you guys. "           
  
"You don't get it-" Angie jumped in "- the power to control all that, it's too much for one person. Too much biased, subjective decisions."                
  
But Rex wasn't done yet.          
  
"As opposed to what? Giving those reigns to you? 'Cause the way I see it, it's you versus him. Say we help you, say we make sure you win, would that mean that Harkness gets to decide what my future is going to look like? Maybe you remember some life where things were better for you, but that's five of you against at least six billion of us who aren't ready to risk everything they know for nothing. Hell, I could be dead in your timeline. So, no, that ain't exactly an incentive to help."   

Rory realized that they'd never really thought of it that way. Back when they had reset the universe, he hadn't thought about the squad of fake romans, or whoever else had drawn the short end of the stick.       
  
Was it murder, in a way? To destroy six billion lives to get his own back.              
  
_We'd be no better than that parasite, would we?_  
  
"That's not what this is about-" Ianto said "- we're not here to make our own lives better. Chances are, we go out there and that thing slaughters us where we stand. Even if it doesn't, I might still end up writing myself out of time anyway. If we let the parasite continue damaging time, temporal rifts and cracks will start appearing.-" He looked at Amy "- Those take people, erase them from existence. That is, if the entire universe doesn't unravel completely. This is what we're trying to prevent, those deaths, those losses. Regardless of a change to one history or another."       
  
That settled the argument pretty definitely.

Rory watched with abated breath as the expressions on the CIA-agent changed from downright dismissive to reluctant to slightly agreeable.  
  
"It'll fix this?" The man pointed at the gaping hole in his chest.                 
  
"With a little luck, it'll prevent that from ever happening.-" Jack answered before turning to his colleague "-What about you, Esther? Are you in?"               
  
"I-I...it saves people, on the long run, so, yeah. Let's do this."  
  
"Alright!" Amy clapped her hands.         
  
"Alright indeed-" Ianto continued. "-Our plan of attack is simple. We attach Gwen to a harmless transmitter that will trick the parasite into believing she, and by proxy itself, is in danger. Rory, you're in charge of that while the CIA-agents ensure that Mrs. Cooper stays where she is. In the meantime, Angelica, John and Jack will fire up the weapon. Amy and I are going protect the perimeter, make sure that the rest of you won't be targeted by our enemy."          
  
"That sounds dangerous..." The captain remarked.        
  
"This is no moment to get protective, Jack, ressurection or not.-" The Welshman didn't miss a beat in correcting his lover.      
  
"So, Time to spring the trap?" Angelica interrupted the men before further arguments could be made.       
  
"-Time to spring the trap." Ianto finished.                                                     

* * *

                                                               
There was a storm brewing in the vortex and Jack was not a fan. The white stripes across the dark blue swirls had now turned to constant zigzagging lines. That could mean either one of two things, or the parasite was on its way, or the universe unraveling all by itself.      
  
"I don't like this." He told Ianto, who simply shrugged.                
  
"What else do you propose we do, then?"         
  
"Dunno, but it might be nice if something _wasn't_ our problem for a change."     
"I used to worry about getting caught up in the mundane crawl of everyday life." The Welshman raised his eyebrow.            
  
"I got ninety-nine problems, but normalcy ain't one?" Jack smiled despite himself.           
  
"When have you been listening to rap?"             
  
"Eh, Esther's a fan."    
  
Ianto snorted before unloading a quite frankly impressive gun.                
  
"That's not going to hurt it." The captain noted.             
  
"No, but the pretty, pretty lights might distract it."        
  
"You shouldn't be playing decoy, not when I'm immortal again."             
  
"Does that matter? The parasite will just as easily twist and bend you into what it wants as with anyone of us."    
  
"Jesus, we're never going to beat this thing."  
  
Ianto gave him an odd look.    
  
"This isn't like you. The Jack I knew was usually the last to admit he couldn't win a fight."  
  
"Yeah, well, he lost a lot of them recently."      
  
"I'm sorry." The Welshman put warm hand on his shoulder and sighed.                
  
"Not your fault."          
  
"We're going to be okay." He said, and then it was Jack's turn to be surprised.            
  
"This coming from the man who is normally the first to poke holes in my plans."             
  
"Well, he's had to reconsider after coming back to life. I _have_ to believe things will be fine, and even if they're not, we'll find a way to make them, because I can't, and neither can you, live in that despair again. It's not healthy."  
  
Before Jack got a chance to answer, Amy sauntered towards the weapon-cases.              
  
"Where's my bazooka at?" She laughed with a bountiless enthusiasm neither Jack nor Ianto possesed anymore.        
  
"Be careful with that, it's not a toy."    
  
It was amusing to see the Welshman and the redhead together. He explained, corrected and watched over the girl like an experienced teacher. And yet...       
  
_It feels like it was only yesterday that he went on his first field-mission._                 
  
Although, to be fair, Jack's contempt for One and Ianto's fiercely independent nature had prevented the Welshman from ever really being a 'student'. No, that role had gone to someone else.

           
His eyes turned to the other side of the barren wastelands, where Gwen was being prepared for the transmitter.    

“Do we have spare set of handcuffs?” Rex asked the medic.

“Ianto has them, I think.” Rory replied before explaining to Gwen that this hopefully wouldn’t hurt too much.

She just snarled another insult towards him.

Jack still couldn't believe that things had gone so wrong with her.

_You think you know someone._

Gwen had proven herself to be a traitor.

Rex could actually be very reasonable.

Esther was braver than the lot of them.

And Ianto was a Time Agent…

“Harkness!-” That was Vex. “-It’s making noises it shouldn’t make. You understand this mess of programming!” She pointed at the cannon, which currently sounded like it was more likely to lift off into orbit rather than fire a round. He took one last look at Gwen, now completely equipped with transmitters before replying.

“Coming!”

The fault was easily fixed with some percussive maintenance and ordering John to cross a few wires here and there. As he was climbing back down, Jack got a good view on their battlefield. To the left, next to machine was Gwen, guarded by Esther and Rex and looked after by Rory, further to edge was Amy, getting a grip on her ‘bazooka’ while Ianto was doing the same to the far right. Down below were Angelica and John, arguing over something again.

“Weapon ready?” Ianto’s voice called out.

He took a look at the cannon’s control panel.

_Fully loaded._

“Ready!” Jack yelled back.

“Transmitter?” The Welshman turned his attention to Rory.

“Ready!” he replied.

“Amy?!”

“Ready!” A Scottish lilt came from the other side of the battlefield.

“Alright, Rory, start broadcasting.”

“I am so sorry.” The medic said, before turning on the power. Gwen screamed. Obviously the procedure wasn’t quite as painless as they’d hoped. The white lines in the murky blue time vortex started to intertwine, becoming a messy ball of temporal yarn. Very briefly there was a scent of rum and the taste of raspberries in the air. Until finally, the white yarn was nothing more than a blank slate: an opening in the Agency’s shield.

_It’s time._

Jack clenched his hands, quelled his nerves and did his very best to not remember the last time he stood down an alien with Ianto by his side.

_It’ll be alright, it’ll be alright, it’ll be…Oh shit, that thing is huge._

The parasite, when it finally managed to break through the barriers, wasn’t anything remotely human, or alien for that matter. It was just a whole lot of inconsistencies wrapped up all together. At first glance, it looked like it had impossibly long arms, which then, from another angle, looked more like wings. Another set of arms appeared on the side of its body, before just as easily molding back into it again. There were eyes, about four of them on its head, but Jack counted at least six more scattered over the chest and other body-parts. It had no legs to speak of. Nor a mouth, for that matter, but it seemed to be no hinder when it came to talking.

 _“Gwen Cooper, welcome to the other side.”_ It was happening in his head, but Jack soon realized that the others could hear the droning, scratching voice gnawing at their mind as well.

“Maes?” Gwen seemed to have recovered from the pain of broadcasting.

 _“The one, the only.”_ For some reason, that last part sounded rather sad.

“No. You can’t be…Maes wasn’t…he was-” The Welshwoman stuttered.

“ _Handsome? He was, wasn’t he? Too bad they took that from me and left me with_ this _._ ”

Its long, bony neck turned to the scene before it. More specifically, the bastard turned his gaze to the one person Jack really didn’t want it to focus on.

“ _Well, this is a surprise…_ ”

The Welshman seemed as stumped as the beast sounded, and for a moment the world slowed down to a crawl. Everyone, including Jack, was stuck in their position while the beast inched closer to Ianto with every second that passed.

In the end, it was Ianto himself who broke whatever freaky spell that thing had placed on them. His eyes never left the parasite, but his body turned halfway towards Jack a few feet away, and called out.

“Fire!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Jack pressed the trigger at least four times while the weapon locked on to the enemy.

There was a bright light, and from the corner of his eye, the captain could see Gwen make use of the confusion to escape. She elbowed Rex, kicked Rory and pushed Esther up against the cannon.

Which chose that moment to fire.

Agent Drummond never even got the chance to scream, she just dropped to floor like a limp doll as the artron particles raced through her body. Rex recovered and pushed Gwen down on the floor as Rory sprinted to Esther.

On his right, there was Ianto, there was Angelica, there was John and there was that bloody parasite, obviously not dead from their shot.

It was faltering though, giving them a bit of leeway.

_Think, Jack, think. Why didn´t that work?_

“Angie!” Ianto barked before running towards her. “What happened?!”

“It wasn’t enough. We need to drain more energy. We need another shot.” The Time Agent answered.

“How long will that take?”

“Five, six minutes tops. But Ianto, it’s not enough, that thing can fix itself any second now.”

“So?! What else do we have?”

“Complex space-time distortion! That should fry it!” John yelled from his side of the machine. Angelica nodded.

“A distortion…like a rift?” The Welshman, betraying a suspicious tremble in his voice.

“Yeah. A rift would do.”

The parasite screeched and brought all the attention back to itself. Amy fired a shot with her gun, distracting it. When Jack turned to the conversation he’d been following, Ianto was suddenly standing nose-to-nose to him.

_Damn ninja._

“Jack.-” He said. “I am so, so sorry. I-I’ll come back, I promise you. No matter what it takes.”

“What?”

“A rift. I swallowed a rift, and when I die, another rift will be created. A complex space-time distortion, capable of destroying that thing.”

“What?! No. No, you don’t!” But it was already too late: Ianto kissed him, and headed straight into the vortex, towards the enemy. Jack, naturally, could _not_ let this happen and tried to follow the Welshman, only to find himself cuffed to the cannon he helped build.

_The spare set of handcuffs._

“Ianto!-” He screamed. “-You get back here! Right now! Ianto Jones, you do not get to fucking do this! Not _again!_ ”

His last thought as Ianto disappeared into the blue haze was that he’d been lied to again.

_You promised. You promised you’d be with me._

Jack kicked and thrashed at the reloading cannon, desperately attempting to get loose. No matter that John had nerve to actually look gleeful about the whole situation.

“Help me!” He yelled, but John simply nodded and pointed at his VM.

“No can do. I’m only allowed to follow orders.”

As he said it though, Hart’s back went rigid and he pulled a pained face before collapsing on the floor.

“Shut up.” 

_Angelica._

 

Well, he wasn’t done with her either.

“You! You let him go! You coldhearted bitch! How could you…” but she wasn’t listening, instead, the blonde was yelling orders at someone else.

“Amy! You’ve got five minutes to come up with a plan to get Ianto outta there and execute it too. Can you do that?!”

The redhead took one look up at the sky, turned back and smiled.

“Oh yeah.”

Jack meanwhile, was thoroughly confused when Angelica began fiddling with her vortex manipulator.

“What…what are you doing?”

“Removing your restraints.”

“How?” The Agency’s cuffs were secured by a personal code, only the owner could open them.

“Oh Jax, in what world could Ianto Jones ever design a lock that I couldn’t break?” She smirked, and with a click, the cuffs fell to the floor.

“You knew?!-” he snarled. “-You knew he would do this.”

“I knew he would do _something._ We needed time, just in case one shot wasn’t enough, we needed to distract the parasite and Ianto, bless him, reacted exactly like I hoped he would, like he always does: sacrificing himself for the greater good.”

“You used him.”

“You can thank me later.”

“Oi, Captain America!-” Amy called. “-C’mon, we’ve got us a Welshman to save!”

 _What the heck, might as well._ He thought, and sprinted after the girl as she re-entered the Agency.

“Where are we going?!” Jack yelled.

“To the roof.” Amy stopped in front of the teleporters and started typing in a location.

“Why?”

“To destroy one of the towers.”

“Again, why?”

“Might save Ianto.” She smiled and they zapped away before he could argue.

Once there, they could feel the beginnings of an artron storm starting up: blue specks zipping past them.

“Here.-” Amy handed him some heavy silver rope, and pulled up a compressed-air gun from a toolbox lying nearby. “-This tower, Ianto’s been fixing it, the plating was damaged by another storm, could break down and land on the dome below. Tie that rope to it.”

Jack dutifully did as he was told, but still couldn’t figure out how exactly this would help them, not when they only had four minutes left. Meanwhile, Amy was loading the air gun with a hook. Only when the girl started tying _herself_ to the plate did the captain get an idea of what she might be planning, and quickly followed suit.

“You want to crash this thing onto the dome, use that as a slope to gain speed, reach Ianto and swoop off again before either he or the parasite figures out what is happening?”

“Bingo!” She said, and climbed into the silver sail.

“That’s insane.”

“I know!”

“No, but really, Amy, that’s not how gravity works, there is a 99.9 percent chance that we’ll crash and die right on top of that dome!” Despite his objections, Jack climbed into the vertical sail as well.

“Trust me, I’m a Doctor’s companion.”

“I was one too, and _this_ is still completely mental!” He yelled.

“Well, you know what they say, right?”

“No, what do they say?!”

Amy shot at the welded support that upheld the sails and laughed:

“GERONIMOOO!”

And that started their rocky descent. The first thing Jack could hear above the rush of his own blood heading to his head was the glass plates of the dome breaking beneath them. For one precarious moment they came to a near halt and balanced on top of the structure, but then Amy leant forward, and they picked up speed again.

As they did, Jack realized that this was the closest he’d ever got to that feeling of absolute madness and exuberance that came when traveling with the Doctor, and despite _everything,_ he laughed.

A scraping noise around them alerted that they slid off the dome and onto the sandy ground. In order to maintain their speed, Amy pointed the air gun behind them, and shot just behind the fraying edges of their sled.

For a moment, Jack thought he saw the cannon and the others around it, but they were gone before he could fully process it, and then everything was surrounded by the blue haze of the vortex. Ianto was up ahead, still distracting the parasite. He could tell, because the ‘bazooka’ was making quite a lightshow of the whole affair. It wasn’t just that though; the Welshman himself stood out as an orange light in the dark swirls of the vortex. A glance at Amy and at Jack’s own hand revealed that they were very much the same, flaring up the deep blue.

“Jack!-” Amy called out. “-If we reach them -”

“I’ll get him, don’t worry!” He yelled back, and braced himself for the catch. When their improvised vehicle inched too far to the right, Amy quickly responded by making a shot to that side of sled, after nearly toppling it over, she steered back towards the fight up ahead.

By now, he could see Ianto, clear as day, could even distinguish a vaguely annoyed look on his face, and started a countdown in his head.

_3…2…1_

With all his might, Jack grabbed hold of the Welshman, the force of which made the back of Ianto’s head slam into his nose, pretty definitely breaking it and throwing them both on the floor of the sled.

_It’ll fix itself._

He was vaguely aware of them passing straight through the parasite, and the enormous draining whirlwind flying by right behind him, but that was really quite inconsequential at that moment. What mattered was that Ianto was onboard, that he was alive and that he had _lied_ to Jack _again._

“Jack?!”

“You asshole! You lying bastard.” He thumped the very confused Welshman on the shoulder, while his nose was already cracking back into place. “You. Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again. I swear to God you’re sleeping on the fucking couch!”

Ianto was still trying to process what the hell had just happened, and looked up from where they’d fallen into the sled.

“Amy?”

“Howdy!” She giggled.

“Amy!-” He repeated. “-Amy, We are going to fall off the edge like this.” and pointed up ahead.

That hadn’t actually occurred to Jack yet.

“Don’t worry! I happen to know that there’s a very sturdy, foolproof probe directly up ahead.”

She loaded the hook, now attached to some additional silver rope and took aim at the small stick in the distance.

“Okay, we can do this.” She said, obviously to herself, took aim and nailed the shot in one try. They didn’t get a lot of time to celebrate though, because the silver rope, despite Amy’s attempts to steer them upright, flipped the entire sled over.

He was pretty sure that the girl was sent flying, and that, by favor of lying on the bottom of the sled, Jack protected Ianto from most of the debris. Honestly, the only thing he really knew for certain was that one of the large slivers had caught him in the back of his head.

_Dead again._

The death was actually quite quick and painless, as far as recent deaths had gone. Plus, for the first time in a long while he entered the dark without worrying whether or not Ianto was wandering around there by himself.

The idea that there was someone to come back for meant that the resurrection took a lot less time than it usually did. When the world around him stopped being black, and jolted back into blue again, there were arms around his shoulders and a warm hand in his hair. Ianto’s face, complete with strange orange specks were hanging over him, and had Jack not been so drained from coming back to life, he would’ve cheered.

“Hey.” Jack settled for that instead.

“ ’Morning.” Ianto answered.

“You okay?”

“Amy broke her wrist, I think, but otherwise we’re fine.”

“Heheh, that went well.” he coughed.

“Shut up, the only reason I haven’t banished you to the couch for dying again is because apparently I’m the one sleeping on it.” There was an admonishing tone in Ianto’s voice, but he had a gentle smile on his face all the same.

“How about we call it even?”

“Alright then, but no more crazy stunts.”

“Look who’s talking.” Jack snorted.

“Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

With a little help from the Welshman, he managed to get up. A wave of disgust welled up in his chest when he realized that his coat, not to mention Ianto’s arms and shirt were once again covered in his blood. Jack couldn’t do anything for his lover, but at least resolved to take off the large blue garment. For a second he contemplated if it’d be worth trying to wash it (or let Ianto have a go at it) but figured that the thing had never felt right anyway. None of them had, not since he’d lost the last one the Welshman had given to him. So, he unceremoniously dumped it on the ground, and left it there to be slowly devoured by the vortex.

Ianto gave him a _look_ , but didn’t comment on the decision.

Amy, who had been sitting away a little further, trying to piece together whatever was left of the probe, smiled and joined them in their trek back to the Agency.

“So, do you think we did it?” she asked.

“Don’t know, but we’re still alive, so I am calling it a victory for now.” Jack answered, and wisely decided to leave it at that.

* * *

The shot was fired, and Angelica had no idea whether or not her friends were still alive. Lang was slowly waking up next to her, and all signs of the Parasite had ceased to exist after the second shot hit it.

Miss Drummond was sitting up; conscious once more, while Rory was alternating between worrying over her and over his absent wife. Further up ahead, Matheson has holding Gwen down in the sand way more aggressively than he had to.

_Might be something going on between him and Drummond after all._

Angie looked out to the broken tower and dome, and realized that she’d never be able to fix all of that by herself. In fact, there was not a hell of a lot she could do. She needed Ianto and Amy, Jack and Rory, all of them.

_And now they might be gone, or will be soon._

As if summoned by her thoughts, the three missing members of their impromptu team came wandering out the haze, which was calming down again now that the threat had been eliminated. Ianto was tightly holding on to his lover, and for a moment, Angelica worried about the blood on his shirt, until of course, she figured out whom it actually belonged to. Amy meanwhile, ran up to Rory, kissed him square on the face while awkwardly cradling her wrist. Angie trusted the nurse would take care of that adequately.

“Everything alright?” She asked Ianto when the men finally made it over.

“Yes. Just a bit surprised Jack managed to get out of those cuffs. Now how do you imagine that happened?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Crap design, they fall off all the time.” Angie shrugged.

“Right. You could have told me, you know. About the decoy.”

“And have you come up with a more elaborate way to attempt kamikaze? No thanks.”

“So are you going to ignore my suggestions every time we get into a dangerous situation?” Ianto asked.

“I did tell you not to trust me.” She smiled, but the moment didn’t last, because up ahead, Cooper was making a fuss.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“Destroyed a threat to the universe, I think.” Jack snapped, while agent Matheson was having a hard time holding the woman under control.

“You don’t understand, he made things right! It will be a mess without him.”

The captain moved closer, until he was far into her personal space.

“My God, it really has you completely deluded, doesn’t it?”

“He helped us!”

“He helped _you,_ at a very high cost.”

“It was for the greater good…” She faltered.

“Is that what helps you sleep at night, Gwen? Is that what makes you feel better? Because let me give you a piece of advice: there is no greater good. There’s no cosmic goal that makes everything alright. No-one is going to forgive me for Stephen, for Gray and all those other people, and no-one will forgive you for Tosh, for Owen, for Ianto and everyone who suffered under the Miracle.”

Cooper seemed confused. _A rude awakening_ Angelica figured, much like her own revelation regarding the Agency had been.

_What do you do when everything you believe in comes crashing down on top of you?_

“So then what? We just mess around?! What the hell are we fighting for then?!” Gwen yelled, still not convinced that she’d made a mistake.

 _“Hate, revenge, justice, freedom, power, truth…pick one.-”_ The voice invaded their heads, clawing at whatever thought they were having, and burrowing itself there.

“- _Or perhaps it’s all just about love in the end, wouldn’t you say?_ ”

“Maes?” Gwen turned to a vague wisp, emerging from the vortex. Everyone else on the field, meanwhile, armed themselves for round two.

“ _Gwen._ ”

The figure of a man appeared, much like the apparition they’d seen in the depths of the Agency, except this one focused itself into a solid form: A handsome young guy, with chestnut brown hair and smiling eyes.

“Angie!” Ianto called out, the unspoken question clear in his voice. She checked the scanners, but found nothing remotely parasitic in this ‘Maes’. If anything, the energy was dissipating.

“It’s not dangerous, it… _he_ is dying.”

“ _Quite right, agent Vex._ ” The voice in her head answered, and the man’s lips moved along with it.

“Why are you here?” Jack asked.

 _“Because dying alone is such a burden. You of all people should know that.-”_ The parasite looked at each of them, but his gaze eventually lingered back to Ianto. _“-Or maybe I’m here to pass on a warning.”_

“A warning about what?” Amy had picked up her bazooka again, and was very sordidly pushing Rory behind her.

_“Human nature.”_

Ianto, who had been rather quiet so far, stepped forward.

“So, go ahead then. Warn us. Tell us what you’ve done.”

_“The only thing I did was react to circumstances, nothing more: Fulfilling a promise to this so-called ‘Time Agency’.”_

“I take it you don’t like us very much, then?” Angie stepped in.

 _“After you took me from my home, murdered my friend and destroyed everything I was? No, can’t say that I do.”_ There was a wry smile on his face.

“So you tried to kill us all.”

“ _Yes, though that wasn’t exactly the main event._ ”

A rage simmered up in her, screaming that this monster had not only taken everything from her, but had the guts to act like it was just a happy convenience on top of it.

“The Miracle?” Rex asked.

_“Means to an end. I needed enough energy to stabilize the changes I made.”_

“Buddy, you better cut the crap, because I don’t think you’ve got the time to stay vague much longer.” Jack nodded towards Maes’ rapidly disappearing legs. There wasn’t enough quantum energy to keep the ghost alive for more than a few minutes.

 _“Right. On point as always, captain. I made a promise to the man responsible for this place.-”_ He spat out the last word. “- _I promised him that I’d wipe this abomination of an organisation from time itself, Starting with its very beginning._ ”

“Torchwood.” Ianto again.

_“Exactly.”_

“And you used Gwen for that.”

“ _I did._ ”

The woman in question struggled and escaped whatever loose hold Matheson still held on her.

“Because I was important, right? I was special.”

_“Hardly. You were just a way in.”_

“No, you’re lying. There has to be a reason why you chose me, and not the others!”

“ _The only thing that made you different from everyone else was the fact that you said ‘yes’.”_

“What do you mean, said ´yes´?”

“ _Did you think you were the only one I asked? No, I asked them all. Told them I could give them everything they ever dreamed of, but they all said no._ ”

Brief images, planted by the parasite, flicked through their minds:

_Jack, resurrecting after yet another bar brawl. Maes promises him a way to become mortal, to live out the rest of his life as he should have. Jack however, is not in the mood for games and threatens him with a gun before moving on._

_A woman named Suzie, sitting by her father’s bedside, cursing his name and contemplating on whether or not she should pull the plug when no-one is watching. Maes makes her an offer, and she thinks long and hard on it, but eventually realizes it’s not worth the risk. He is left sitting alone by a hospital bed._

_Another woman, this one is called Toshiko. She’s alone, in a cell, nearly driven mad by the four walls on each side. Maes visits her, and tells her she could go back to her mother, safe and sound. Toshiko is so scared of strange men offering her dubious things nowadays that she screams until the guards drag her away from him._

_A man named Owen, grieving over a fresh grave. He’s angry, so angry in fact that Maes never gets the chance to bargain with him. The doctor spontaneously attacks him in a fit of rage, and it’s lucky that Maes’ face isn’t as solid as that of a human anymore because otherwise he might have had to live with the disfigurement._

_And finally Ianto, in deep despair, waiting for someone in a dark, abandoned park. Maes sits down next to him and offers him a cure for his loved one, a way for Lisa to survive, but Ianto is paranoid, has been so ever since Canary Wharf. The Welshman skillfully wheedles his way out of the conversation before anything else can happen._

“But you said I was the heart…the heart of the Torchwood.” Tears are rolling down Cooper’s cheeks as she slowly came realize what had happened.

“Oh, _absolutely. You, Gwen Cooper, are without a doubt the black, rotten heart of a selfish, power-hungry organisation corrupt enough to destroy everything it touches. You are the very image of a man so obsessed with protecting his own ego that he took time itself hostage and called it an ’Agency’. I vowed to destroy that, and I used all of Torchwood’s flaws to devour it from the inside out.”_

"You failed, though. We’re still here, Time Agents and Torchwood alike." Gwen desperately tried.            
  
_"Did I? Do you know what it takes to prevent temporal change? A lot more than half a dozen stragglers crawling away from a massacre.-"_ he looked at their group _"-The past isn't set in stone. Time is like water; throw a rock in the mountain stream and the valley's river will change its course. The events as you knew them only exist in slivers anymore and with every change another corrupt Agent will be wiped from history forever.-"_  
  
His right arm was slowly disintegrating.             
  
_"- You might be able to protect this place, your friends and maybe even the broad strokes of history but you can't ensure that Greel will ever be born, or initiate every cumulative action that will lead him to Torchwood. I broke the cycle; I stopped the Agency from recreating itself over and over again, from channeling history in their direction. Basically, I win."_  
  
“We lost, yes,-” Ianto said, and whatever was left of the parasite focused on him. “-but we survived. I’d say that’s worth more on the long run.” 

Unexpectedly, Maes laughed. The movement caused his shoulders and neck to disappear altogether.

_“I guess it’s only fitting that it’s me who’s scattered into the vortex this time.”_

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do.” Ianto answered genuinely, but Angelica wasn’t feeling much pity for the mass-murderer, sad sob-story or not.

_“Don’t be, Kian. I couldn’t have asked for a better end than this.”_

The parasite’s mouth disappeared, and for a second, there were still two friendly brown eyes staring at the Welshman, before even they turned to orange specks and flew off into the vortex.

It took a long moment for everyone to tear themselves away from the place where Maes had stood, but eventually, it was Jack who got things moving again. He let out a deep breath and slung an arm around Ianto’s shoulder.

“Well, that was weird.” 

“I suppose.” The other man said, still watching that empty spot in the vortex.

“He’s gone now though.” That was enough to draw Ianto’s attention back to the captain.

“Yes, it’s finally over.” He smiled. “-We umh, should get these two back to their cells-” Motioning at Cooper and Lang, one still deeply shocked by the turn of events, and the other still deeply shocked by well, electricity.“- and start…clean up I guess?”

Jack took a suspiciously long time to look at Angie.

“Oh, fucking hell, you expect _me_ to do all of _this_? Well, I can tell you now I’m not disassembling that heap of scrap by myself.” She snarled, because the cannon was completely burned up; nothing more than a big statue of slag.

_Well, there goes a year’s worth of research and expensive materials._

“Don’t worry!-” Amy laughed “-That can wait till tomorrow. For now, I’d say it’s time to celebrate our victory… or loss!”

Rory wasn’t quite on the same page as his wife yet.

“Hang on, your wrist is still broken, I need to make sure Esther is all right and Ianto, aren’t you bleeding from _somewhere?_ ”

“Right, my shirt. I should probably get that changed. Come along, Jack.” The Welshman smiled and started walking towards the Agency. The captain practically bounced after him while Rex dragged Gwen to her feet, and Angelica did the same to Lang. Amy and Rory helped Esther up, finishing their strange little parade.

Just before Jack and Ianto disappeared around the corner however, Angie could hear them talk about what happened on the field today.

“Hey, why did that guy call you Kian back there?” The older man’s voice rang out.

“No idea. His brain was flying off into time itself though, so maybe he was seeing things that weren’t really there.”

“Yeah, delusional, that’s what I thought. Anyway, did I ever tell you about that time I-”

Naturally, Angelica stopped listening at that point and soon enough the entire group split up to take care of their own respective duties.

When she returned from putting a semi-conscious Lang back in his cell, Angie passed a large broken window, one she remembered all too well. A few blood spatters on the floor, presumably hers, reminded Angelica of something that her teacher told her practically a lifetime ago.  

_Perhaps we’ve been relying on the written word too much. We keep trying to preserve the past as if it’ll shatter if we shift it, regardless of the damage we do to keep it in place._

“Well old man, I guess our entire control system was bullshit after all.” She sighed, and decided that maybe now was a good time to start identifying the numerous Time Agents lying in the morgue.


	27. There's still time.

* * *

 

_Time Agency, ----._

“So, things are really turning back to normal?” Amy asked as the five of them stood in the Archives, watching the history books slowly rewrite themselves.

“Yes. Every event in the history of the universe is slotting back into place.” Angelica nodded. She seemed very pleased with the outcome of this whole mess. Although, Jack figured it might have more to do with their decision to stay with the Time Agency then whatever else was happening outside of it.

The offer was as good an opportunity as the two of them were likely going to get. Sure, him and Ianto could go back to Torchwood, and yes, they’d remember what had happened at the Agency, but there was no guarantee that Ianto wouldn’t be dead or that he wasn’t married or something.

It was better like this.

Besides, Jack guessed that Torchwood was better off without him as well. For one, Alex would still be alive, and for two, he tended to complicate just about _everything._ A former Time Agent with a backlog the length of a light-year attracted trouble. That was just the way it was.

They were definitely staying.

“I thought the books couldn’t be changed?” Rory turned to the Captain.

“It’s not so much changing as it is reassembling. There was nothing left to uphold the structure of the timeline. Think of it as one of those interlocking puzzles, you can’t take it apart easily, but when you do, the whole thing falls to pieces and then you’re stuck rebuilding it from the ground up.”

“Oh, I hate those things.” Amy made a face.

“Yeah, me too. Somehow, I always end up with one excessive piece once the whole construction is put together.”

“That’s not possible.” Ianto was giving him the eyebrow.

“I swear I’m not lying, hand me one of those things and I’ll show you.”

“Right. Make mental note, get Jack a Burr puzzle.”

“Can you tell which events are being restored right now?” Rory again.

“Sure,-” Angelica pointed to a sentence at the top of the page. “-see, it’s currently working on 1400 BC. Everything else is still in flux. I suppose it’ll take a few more days before it all settles.”

“I see.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Vex asked the married couple once more.

“Nope, sorry, the Doctor is bound to come back soon.”

Amy got that look in her eyes, the one Jack understood better than most. She wasn’t done with that life yet, and until she was, there simply was no settling for anything else. For her sake, he hoped that she wouldn’t get left behind before her time, like he had been.

“Well, at least promise me you’ll keep those vortex manipulators I gave you.”

“Of course, we will, it’s just...” The girl faltered.

“You don’t know how to explain them to the Doctor.” Jack answered for her.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while. He could see the Time Lord’s reaction in his mind’s eye already: Scowling at that aggressive, self-absorbed Agency with their little space-hoppers, and proclaiming that no companion of his should be a member of _that._ Even if it was water under the bridge, Jack still felt very, very uncomfortable at the idea of telling the Doctor that his little Amelia and Rory had been recruited.

“I’d been meaning to talk to you two about that.-” Ianto sighed. “-It’s no secret that I have a…slight contempt for the man. So, I might be biased, but I think it’s best if this organisation is given a chance to rebuild itself without his meddling. We’ve tried to live up to the Doctor’s impossibly high standards before and, well, let’s just say it’s a recipe for disaster.” He wasn’t looking at Jack per se, but the message was loud and clear.

_We’re only human, and we can’t be more than that._

“You want us to keep it a secret.” Amy stated.

“Basically, yes.”

She shrugged.

“I guess…How hard can it be to keep something from the Doctor, right?”

Jack thought about it for a second.

“Just don’t carry any weapons, and leave those VM’s at home. That should do it.”

“What if something happens though? We’ll have no way of reaching them.” Angie complained.

“If he leaves you behind, send us a message. It can be anything that stands the test of time: Cause a big enough ruckus to end up in the news, or write a book, something like that.”

“They could still get hurt.”

“Well, that’s a risk we’ll have to take.” Rory nodded.

“I suppose this means I’ll have to leave behind my sword.-” Amy pouted. “-And I never even got to use it properly.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of it.-” Ianto smiled just as the doors to the archives slid open. It was Rex and Esther, still a little bit unnerved by the sheer size of the Agency, now cautiously entering the room.

“-Yes?”

“We want to go home.” Rex said, worried but determined at the same time.

Jack supposed it was bound to happen, even though they’d spend the last 48 hours subtly ignoring the pull of real life. At some point, thing had to come to an end.

_Say goodbye._

Apparently, that point was now.

“Can they?” Ianto asked Angelica.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“But time, it’s not quite right yet, is it?-” Esther peeped out from behind the bulk that was agent Matheson. “-What would happen to us?”

“From our point of view, you’ll be suspended in the vortex for a day or so. From yours, you’ll slip right into your new life. ”

“I won’t remember. She will though.” Rex said, gripping Esther’s hand. It was a bit of a surprise to see the G-man so attached to her, but Jack supposed that traveling to the edges of time itself, and defeating a monster there changes a man. Even someone as dense as Matheson.

The Captain smiled.

“True. The artron particles from the cannon seem to have permanently bonded with Esther.”

“It’s okay,-” the woman in question answered. “-means I can keep an eye out for changes in the timeline.”

“So, you’ve packed your bags already?” Jacked teased, earning him a pissy remark in return.

“What bags, Harkness? Your people plucked us off the streets with nothing but the clothes on our back.”

“Hey, don’t look at me; I was just as much a captive as you were.”

Ianto gave an uncomfortable cough, before motioning that they should probably head to the control room and nudged Angelica and Amy to pick up Gwen and Lang on the way.

It all happened quite fast. One moment he was still teasing Rex and then, all of the sudden it really was time to part ways. Angie and Amy were still heading towards the dungeons, and Rory had gone to pick up their stuff, so it was just the two men bidding farewell to the CIA-agents.

Jack wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. He’d come to like Esther at least, and gained a bit of respect for Rex. Goodbyes usually involved a funeral, notifying next of kin and living with the knowledge that someone truly was _gone_ from his life _._ He wasn’t exactly used to happy endings like these.

_Would it be inappropriate to French kiss them?_

Luckily, his indecision got averted when Esther approached them, hugged him and kissed his cheek instead.

“You know what? I’m actually really glad I fell into that fountain.”

“You know what?-” Jack answered. “So am I.”

There was a happy smile on her face, one that didn’t remind him of Toshiko in the slightest. After all they’d done and gone through, the difference between the two women was clear as day: Esther wasn’t made for Torchwood and would never choose the criminal life of a semi-illegal hacker, a hardened field-agent and a casual body-snatcher that Tosh had enjoyed so much. The girl was just too nice for it all. Normal, innocent people like Esther weren’t meant to live like that. So, without feeling guilt or sadness, he let go.

Then he turned to Rex and shook his hand, determined to at least try for a proper send-off.

“Agent Matheson, it’s been...”

He tried to find the right words.

“It’s been…”

It was actually kind of difficult to describe their relationship in a polite way.

“A general nuisance?” the other man finished.

“I guess that about sums it up.” He shrugged. To Jack, the man would never be more than a blip on the radar. Rex Matheson would never have the profound impact on the Captain like his own team had. There were no (possibly misplaced) paternal feelings, no common grief to share in and for all the anger Rex held, Jack couldn’t relate to those emotions at all. So, without feeling guilt or sadness, he let go.

On the other side of the room, Ianto was opening a gateway back into the timeline. They’d made a few test-runs, but this would be the first time someone would go through it permanently. A GPS-system, tweaked by Jack himself, would get the others where they belonged, without leaving behind any undo mess.

“All vectors are in place, the coordinates are correct, you two ready to go?” The Welshman asked, and Esther nodded.

“Initiating jump in three…two…one…”

A flash of light, a noisy crackle and then the two agents were gone, immersed back into their own time.

For a brief moment, Jack felt nostalgic, another chapter to his life had been closed. It was done. He looked back at Ianto and promptly realised that a new one was about to begin.

A pleasant sort of feeling fluttered in his stomach.

Whatever plans his lower brain was making however, they were rudely interrupted by a crash outside on the hallway. The cause for it was Angelica, who came in mere seconds later, dragging a complaining John in front of her.

“You bitch! I helped you and how do you repay me?! By slamming _my face_ into a bloody _wall_!”

“Relax, it’ll heal.”

“It better, this is the money right here!”

“A wall, huh?” Jack asked. He was having a hard time being particularly bitter towards the woman ever since she helped save Ianto. Their issues weren’t resolved yet, and his heart still froze over every time he remembered those frightening seconds in the interrogation room, where she had spun him a tale straight out of his worst nightmares. However, Jack would’ve drowned in his own bitterness and anger a long time ago if he hadn’t learned how to forgive people.

“Completely accidental, I swear.” She smiled carefully.

_Not quite friends yet, but no longer enemies at least._

_Speaking of which…_

John had made a lame attempt to flirt by hanging himself against Jack, and he could practically feel Ianto roll his eyes all the way across the room.

“So, what’s this, the farewell party?” his ex tried.

“Let’s hope so.” The Captain deadpanned and gently pushed their prisoner away from him. Suddenly, John’s mood changed completely. Gone was the happy, drunk spiel he’d been performing and out came a very paranoid, frightened, aging man. There were wrinkles in his forehead that were new, making Jack slightly bitter that despite every crime the rogue had committed, he was still rewarded with the potential of a life Jack would never have. A potential that would no doubt be squandered by booze, lies and weapons.

“You’re going to kill me?” The Agent’s eyes flicked nervously towards the Welshman.

“No, don’t worry, that isn’t part of the plan.” Hart practically jumped at the sound of Ianto’s voice. Though to be honest, it was probably just a twitch here and there. However, to Jack, who was well aware of John’s natural disposition and extensive training, it was roughly the equivalent of a pretty big scare.

_Did I miss something?_

“What _is_ part of the plan, then?”

“We’re letting you go.” Ianto smirked and Jack had to admit, that was a bit creepy.

_I definitely missed something._

“What? Seriously? You’re actually keeping your word?-” John seemed terribly surprised by that. Then covered it up with bluster “-Yeah, sure, just hand me back my Manipulator. A gun would be nice too.”

“No.” The Welshman answered.

“What the hell do you mean ‘no’? That was the deal. My freedom for helping you.”

“And we’re sticking to that.”

“So…VM… gimme, gimme.” The Time Agent tried again.

“Full, complete freedom: We’re terminating your contract with the Time Agency .-”

“You’re _dumping_ me!?”

“That’s what, the fourth time now?” Jack snorted, while Ianto happily continued with the official speech.

“-You are no longer allowed to carry a vortex manipulator, and will be placed back into your native time and place as soon as possible.”

“I can’t go back there with _nothing!_ They will kill me.”

It was possible, the Captain mused. John was known for stirring up shit and made a lot of enemies over the years. Powerful companies and freelance individuals would be looking for him, wanting money, revenge or simply justice. The fact that _Diedrich Lang_ had changed his name was no surprise, but Jack had been watching, and his old friend had disappeared in far more complex ways than just a change of initials. The 51st century would become a hunting ground, with John as its intergalactic prey.

Angelica, like him, knew exactly what the repercussions of Hart’s release would be.

“What? Guy like you? You must have tonnes of friends wherever you go.”

The five of them had discussed the man’s faith in length, and had agreed not to kill him. Although only Rory had been adamant to ensure the former Agent’s relative safety: Jack accounted it as a ‘not enough experience with John’ case. Death wasn’t an unlikely scenario, but odds were that Hart would choose danger regardless of any protection they’d give him. They could lock him up, but there was a significant risk that he’d escape and wreck more havoc in the universe. Given that they were the Time Agency now, Ianto had claimed some form of responsibility for their prisoner and did not want to be accountable for any more deaths made in their organisation’s name.

That said, a formal discharge was enough for him to take distance from John’s actions.

Ianto was bureaucratic that way.

The point was that they’d decided on neutralizing whatever advantage John had on his temporal peers and would allow the native authorities to pick him up and let them deal with it.

So, Angie strategically uncuffed the former Agent where he couldn’t make a move without running into one of them. Meanwhile, Jack forcefully placed one of the GPS devices on him, and Ianto unceremoniously started up the transporter again.

“You made your bed, buddy, it’s time to lie in it.” The captain said.

“You assholes, I won’t let you get -” He never got to finish the sentence, because the transporter took John Hart right back to where he came from.

The atmosphere in the room changed completely and for a moment, everything was quiet.

“Do you think he will?-” Ianto asked eventually, ever the sceptic in his own plans. “-Die, I mean.”

“Hardly.-” Jack snorted. “- He’s always been tough as nails, doesn’t need time-travel to survive. Before you know it ‘Captain Hart’ will be running another crime-ring again. If we’re lucky though, he might just keep it in the 51st century this time.”

He actually wasn’t sure if that was true, but John Hart had caused enough trouble for Ianto already, and Jack didn’t want to add to that load. If they found his body, or tracked him down in another century, they’d deal with that at the spot.

Not that Jack got more chances to quell his lover’s conscience, because footsteps in the hallway alerted them that another set of travellers was about to arrive.

* * *

 

 

Amy had successfully extracted Cooper from her cell. At least, it went without biting incidents this time, so whatever, she was proud of herself. Although that might have had more to do with Gwen’s quiet resignation, rather than any efforts on Amy’s part.

Either way, they were on their way to the control room, and all was well. That is, until her prisoner ruined the moment by opening her mouth.

“You and I, we’re the same, you know.” Cooper croaked.

“Riiight, sure we are. I’ve obviously been double-crossing Torchwood for years now. Not to mention ordering assassinations and committing acts of terrorism. You and me, peas in a pod.”

She could see the woman smile in the reflection of the windows. It was a cruel, condescending kind of smirk. Amy could already hear Gwen’s voice whispering “You don’t know anything” in her head. Shivers ran down her spine, and for a brief moment she was reminded of Rosanna Calvierri, that vampiric fish that kept her secrets in the canals of Venice.

“That feeling of being unique, of being one of a kind. It’s nice isn’t it, sweetheart?” Cooper’s deceptively ‘sweet’ voice purred.

“Not particularly.” Amy shrugged.

_One of a kind. The only one. Alone._

“I envy you, you know: still free, still loved, still _right_. That’s such a wonderful place to be. ” Gwen continued.

“uhu, keep talking. I’d love to hear where you’re going with this.” Amy rolled her eyes, and suddenly realized she might be picking up some mannerisms from a certain Welshman.

“It won’t last, though. One day, you’ll make a mistake, and then you’ll try to cover it up, and then you’ll make another, and another, and another. Then, before you know it, everyone’s calling you the bad guy.” Gwen didn’t really seem to be talking to Amy as much as she was talking to herself.

“So, that’s what it really was? You were scared that people would find out you made a mistake?” Their conversation was intriguing though, in a weird, wildlife-documentary kind of way.

“God, no. I was never afraid.” Gwen laughed.

“Then why?” Amy already regretted the question as the words left her lips.

“Oh, the same reason you’re here. I heard you guys talk: A Doctor’s companion. You can’t say no to adventure either. It’s in your blood.”

“You think that’s why I’m here?”

“It’s why we’re all here, pet. Boredom.” The woman scoffed.

If Amy had any doubts about the differences between Gwen and her in the first place, then those words were enough to make them all disappear.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the adventure.-” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “-But the real reason I stepped into that box was because I wanted my imaginary friend to be real. ‘Cause you can shake boredom anywhere, but loneliness? Loneliness chases you.-”

Gwen was unimpressed. So, Amy tried a different approach.

“-Let me guess, you’ve got good relationships with your parents?”

“Yes…” The Welshwoman said carefully.

“Speak to them often, then?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

“Right. Now imagine a life without them. Like, no-one to phone when you’re in trouble, or no-one to ask you how school was that day.”

“That’s…”

“Yeah. Do you know what that does to a kid?-” She didn’t wait for an answer “- I’ll tell you: It makes them a bit weird, and other kids don’t like weirdoes. Nope, you won’t be making a lot of friends there. I mean, I was lucky. I had Rory to talk to, when his mother didn’t forcefully drag his ass away from me, that is.-”

It was hard enough to confide these kinds of things with Ianto or Angie, who had both understood the situation more than anyone should have. To do so with a stranger, one who had so casually thrown her friends by the wayside? Now, that required a lot of effort on Amy’s part. She bit through though, if only to convince herself that this was somehow normal to some people.

“-For my entire life, I’ve been the village freak, the strange kid, the one off. The only one in her kind, you might say. That’s why, when another weirdo in a spaceship came for me, I went. Because I wanted someone to understand, because I was so _sick_ and _tired_ of being unique. So, you see, Gwen Cooper, I don’t think we’re really anything alike after all.”

The conversation died there. Not because Amy was quite done explaining her situation, but because the steely look on Cooper’s face betrayed that she still refused to understand that to some people, things didn’t come easily. Their feet however, still led them to the control room, further and further away from a subject so close to her heart. Once there, Amy found her other weirdoes and wanted nothing more than to boot this bitch of a woman out of their unconventionally created home.

“Everything alright?” Ianto asked.

“Yeah.-” Amy smiled. “-it will be, soon enough.”

He gave her a look, but eventually turned back to Jack, who was preparing a GPS thingie. She could tell that the men were having a hard time at letting Cooper go. Their teamwork was still flawless, but their movements were slow, as if postponing the inevitable. Angelica, for her part, seemed to be more interested in the departure of Rory and Amy. The Time Agent was nagging at Rory not to forget the vortex manipulators (as if Amy ever would) and tried to warn them for pretty much every dangerous alien that ever existed.

“-And then there’s the Sycorax, they’re a piece of work. Shoot on sight if you ask me. Oh, don’t forget the Adipose. They might look all cuddly, but they’ll fool you-”

“Sycorax, bad. Adipose, bad. Got it.” Rory nodded.

“-And don’t ever get caught between two Judoon. That’s just a meat grinder waiting to happen.”

There was a desperate edge to Angie’s voice as she rattled off every potentially hostile in the universe. Amy figured that it was probably a way of coping for her friend: that preparing the two of them for everything would somehow mean that they were safe from anything.

On the other side another emotional goodbye was gearing up. Ianto had approached his old colleague and was making an attempt at ending things properly. She, however, was stood ramrod in the middle of the control room, and the condescending look Cooper had given Amy in the hallways had now twisted into a cold glare.

“Gwen,-” he tried, but the woman wasn’t willing to give an inch.

“Don’t you ‘Gwen’ me! I’m not in the mood for your high and mighty attitude.” She snapped.

Amy saw her friend grit his teeth, before grudgingly trying again.

_For old time’s sake, probably._

“Gwen. I wanted you to know that I still don’t blame you. We’ve all made mistakes and I’m pretty much the last person to judge that. I’m sorry that things have to end this way.”

It was understandable that Ianto still felt the guilt of his Lisa bearing down on him, but Amy figured there wasn’t an actual overlap between the situations. He had tried to save a loved one, and Gwen had endangered hers in favour of a cheap thrill.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, why does everyone think I want to murder them!? No, we don’t do that, alright.” He tiredly rubbed his forehead.

“Well, what then?” She crossed her arms.

Jack smirked and stepped in. Acting way more confident than he probably was. Or at least, Amy assumed that was the case.

_I would have done the same, if it’d had been me standing in his shoes._

“You’re going to go home, you’re going to live a nice, normal life and you’re going to forget all about us.” The Captain said.

“Retcon doesn’t work on me, Jack. You can’t make me forget.” Gwen was downright smug now. Jack however, had another trick up his sleeve.

“I don’t have to. Time has changed, once we send you home, you’ll never have been a part of Torchwood.”

“T-that’s not possible.” Whatever fragile confidence Cooper had built up overnight, it was quickly crumbling now. “You can’t do that to me. Not after everything we’ve been through!”

“I’m sorry.” The Ianto replied sincerely, while Jack stood by with a clenched jaw and glaring eyes. Gwen matched the Captain’s fierce attitude and walked right up to the men, making a last ditch attempt to stare the two of them into submission.

“No, you know what? Forget it. My normal life was so much better than anything your sad pathetic little ones could ever be. Extraordinary or not. I mean, you’re a compulsive liar-” she cussed at Ianto before moving on to Jack “-and you, you’re a promiscuous lecher who wouldn’t know love if it bit him in the arse. I’ll go back to my wonderful husband and my sweet daughter and it’ll be fantastic. Nothing like chasing aliens, or blowing up buildings, or keeping secrets, or saving worlds...-”

Somewhere in her speech, Gwen’s purpose fled off, and tears began to fill her eyes. Amy had momentarily thought that maybe the woman had found some sort of appreciation for her life, but it seemed that Mrs. Cooper was still completely hung up on Torchwood and everything it entailed. A part of her couldn’t blame Gwen, after all, if the Doctor had left her behind…

_It’s why we’re all here, pet. Boredom._

No, if the Doctor was going to leave Amy behind, then it would be a wholly different matter. She wouldn’t be able to replace him as a person, but Gwen could go and find her own adventures, regardless. Though you wouldn’t think that if you saw the Welshwoman now, whose powerful character was shrinking down to a small, pitiful creature with every accusation she spat at her former friends.

“-Oh, god, how did I get defeated by you lot!? You can’t even get your lives together. You’re just a bunch of loners, stuck in a dead-end job, going nowhere. You were always fighting, always cruel and cold to everyone. Look at each other: Ianto, he killed the woman you loved, you should hate him. And Jack, he betrayed you, and kept things from you, for purely selfish gains; he should be the one getting the boot, not me! You can’t be working together now, you weren’t made for it. I was! C’mon, fight. You know you will eventually. You can’t do this without me! Why won’t you _fight_ already!? Fight!!-”

It was a painful spectacle to watch Mrs. Cooper desperately trying to prove her worth, and everyone, including the Torchwood agents, was pretty lost as what to do with it.

“Gwen.” Jack tried, no longer angry now, just a bit afflicted, but there was no stopping his former friend.

_There never was._

“-No! No, no, no! It isn’t fair! Oh Christ, this is so humiliating…beaten…by _you_. Why do you get everything, and I get nothing!?-” She bawled, and her words rapidly turned into hiccups and ugly screams of malcontent.

“Not like this! Not by you!-” Gwen wailed and thrashed until she was bunched up on the floor, fighting off a very remorseful Ianto.

“Gwen, please, just…It’s alright. You’ll be okay.”

“Leave me alone.-” She snarled, the fire abruptly returning to her. Making Amy wonder if this hadn’t been one big dramatic act after all. “-Stop it. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your _excuses._ Leave me alone, I am done!-” Despite her best efforts, the Welshwoman was still crying. To her credit though, she stood up, snatched the GPS tracker from Jack, walked to the transporting platform before actually having the gal to order them all around.

“-Well, go on then, I thought you were going to send me home. So, do it. Press that fucking button!-”

“-Do it!”

A silence fell over the room. No-one was really willing to be the one to end things this way, not even after everything that had happened. Maybe it was a ruse to confuse them, or perhaps just a way for her to take control of the situation again. Whatever it was, though, Ianto, being who he was, couldn’t give up on someone he cared about.

“Gwen…It doesn’t have to end this way.”

“Oh, it does, trust me, Ianto Jones, it does. The only person sending me off is me. Do you hear me! This is _my_ decision.”

Amy wasn’t sure if it was a bluff, or just a way to end her shame, but regardless of it, Ianto gave Angelica the go ahead.

And that’s how Gwen Cooper went; head held high, a steely look in her eyes and tears running freely down her cheeks.

* * *

 

"Gaaaah!!" The captain screamed in frustration after the very final image of Gwen had disappeared from his view and Ianto feared that he'd need to guide another one of his co-workers through a mental breakdown.   
  
"Relax, Jack, she's gone." He sighed, unexpectedly relieved by the sudden calm in his heart. His lover however, wasn’t exactly on the same page yet. Ianto moved closer to the older man, wanting to comfort the Captain with some form of intimacy. His own British propriety however, was acutely aware that there were still other people in the room, and that this would be one of those things he couldn’t properly deal with until they were alone again.

Necessity demanded that he would make do though, because Jack’s jaw would probably pop out of its socket if someone didn’t remedy the situation soon.  
  
"Yeah, she better be,-” Jack snarled “-because really? ‘Why do you get everything, and I get nothing’!? That is just...just...a fucking disgrace! I mean, you're about to give up your family, your life on earth and I'm right back to staring immortality in the face, aren't I?"           
  
Ianto took a deep breath and tried to adjust his body language to oppose the older man’s current aggressive stance.              
  
_Looks like it’s breakdown-day after all._  
  
He stood up, put his hands on either sides of Jack's face and went for a very simple approach. It was the one that, in the last couple of days, had proved to be quite effective, much to his surprise.             
  
"Listen. We are going to be just fine." Was all he said. For a second it seemed that the other man would reign in his temper like he had during the interrogation, or at least shut Ianto out of the equation, but the floodgates were finally completely open, and Captain Jack Harkness was very done with playing the cool, collected leader of their team.             
  
"But it's not fair! It's not right. We saved the universe. Again! Why do we keep getting punished like this?" It was almost childlike, the way he lashed out to life, making Ianto realize that this wasn’t really about Gwen anymore; it was a deep seeded issue that he had only seen in a small picture on a holoscreen, depicting Jack as a desolate sixteen-year-old. It had been in the eyes of that boy too. It was the depression of being punished, no matter what choice you make.

He understood Jack’s pain, and felt it quite the same as well, he could even emphasize with the spitting rage bubbling up in the Captain. Of course, Ianto had not been exposed to unfairness of the universe as much as Jack had. But things never really worked out the way he had planned, not ever. So, instead of making a fuss, Ianto did what he had always done: he marched on.   
  
"I know love, I know." He rested his forehead against Jack's. "Life isn't fair, yeah, but we'll find something, anything, okay?"            
  
"Ianto Jones,-" The other man smiled weakly "-Are you lying to me again?"  
  
"Maybe, I don't know. I hope not.-" Ianto kissed him, barely more than a peck on the lips, but meaningful in its own way. "-Now, c'mon, we have an audience to attend to."             
  
It would be the most difficult send-off of them all, since Ianto could scarcely imagine a day where he _wouldn't_ see Amy anymore. When it had been just the three of them, he'd come to rely heavily on the chipper ginger and her wicked ways.

_Much like I had with Gwen, back in the day._

Amy however, it seemed, felt the same way about him as he felt about her. There were tears in her eyes when she accepted the tracker from Jack, and even more when she gave Angie a long heartfelt hug, while the normally stiff unyielding Time Agent cried like a little kid alongside with her.                 
  
"You be careful now! It's a big, unpredictable universe out there, don't get conned, don't get hurt and just...come back, okay." Angie sniffed, and Ianto predicted that the two of them would be semi-stalking the Ponds together for at least a few weeks, if not longer.       
  
"Of course I'll come back! Wouldn't miss that horrible space-vodka for the world." The girl hiccupped, and Ianto felt a tremor in his own heart at the memories of those stupid drunken nights when the whole world had revolved around their strange, and yet completely reasonable friendship. There was a sliver of panic too; who the hell was he supposed to ask for normal stuff now. Jack? He deeply, sincerely loved the man, but Ianto was quite sure that the only thing Jack ever did with normal was briefly wave at it before continuing his bizarre life. Angie? She was hardly equipped to deal with common matters, and what little knowledge she had only applied three thousand years after he was born.

_Jesus, I’ll be a relic…_

While he was having a minor freak-out on the inside, the redhead had already turned to him, and suddenly he had a handful of Amy and suspiciously damp eyes. True to form though, his mind went blank, leaving Ianto with no idea what to actually tell her. Amy, of course, instinctively felt his mood, and flawlessly slipped into a faux-casual conversation he could actually deal with.  
  
"So, see you around, I guess?" She gave him a watery smile.     
  
"Absolutely. Don't be a stranger."

And for what was probably the first time in his life, Ianto meant it when he said that. He tried to remember the countless times when he told his family this when, and if they ever visited him in London, or when he slipped yet another retcon in an unsuspecting victim’s drink.           
  
"Never, not even if I have to crash that TARDIS into the Agency myself." The girl gave the story a lovely twist, but Ianto honestly believed that she would, if they were ever in trouble.        
  
The image of Amy fighting with a Time Lord over the controls of a time-machine, and no doubt winning as well, brought a smile to The Welshman’s face.  
  
"I'll miss you, you know. Quite a lot." He whispered, mostly because this was something that was bit private, a part of him he didn’t feel like throwing out there, even if the room was filled with people dear to him.        
  
"Yeah, me too.-" she whispered back then her eyes focused on Jack and Rory, shaking hands in the background. There was a mysterious look on her face, combined with the frown she got when she was slowly solving a difficult problem"- Hey Ianto?"              
  
"Hmhmm?" He answered, patiently waiting for her to gather her thoughts in some sort of arrangement he could follow. Amy was clever, if she took her time to actually put things in order before babbling them out.   
  
"I was thinking just now; Angelica said that with the parasite every fixed point was unfixed, right?"    
  
"Right." He said, not quite sure where she was going with this.                
  
"And that every event in history was being rewritten in the flux right now."  
  
"Uhu."  
  
"So, there really are no fixed points right now, are there? That means that theoretically speaking, at this moment, you could rewrite a fixed point into not ever becoming one..." Her voice had taken on a quite tense tone, as if she was entrusting him with one of the great secrets of the universe. Of course, not being quite as familiar with the mechanics of time travel (he would need to read up on that soon as well.) Ianto needed a moment to decipher what the redhead was telling him.    
  
Suddenly, it dawned on him.

First, he smiled.

Then he laughed.

And then his mind just sort of exploded into euphoria.

_Time can be rewritten._

It was like the moment when he realized that there was a life beyond Lisa’s death, beyond his own, when he figured out that there was more to the world than just humans and normal life. The excessive piece in Jack’s Burr puzzle.

"My god, that is brilliant.-” And if he was suddenly very, very loud, or if his voice was a bit squeaky, then that was all very irrelevant.

“-You are absolutely brilliant!-” Ianto kissed her on the forehead, and on the cheek, well aware that their significant others were standing by and curiously watching the exchange.

“- You, don’t ever change, yeah?” He lifted her slim frame off the ground and hysterically giggled along with her whoop of surprise. It was definitely not proper, nor particularly manly, and Jack was probably worrying that Ianto had gone completely thoroughly bonkers right now.

The Welshman didn’t particularly care, not when the Captain would probably have a crazy reaction of his own soon.               
  
"So, do you think you will..." Amy asked, her head now matching the color of her hair.          
  
"Oh yeah, definitely. Absolutely. First, though, I think it's time we sent you on your way." The sadness of her departure had returned, but it was utterly overshadowed by all the possibility this silly, odd girl from Leadworth had given them.

He supposed it was a better alternative than being utterly depressed again.   
  
"Right. We should...go then.-" She giggled, even though it tugged on both their heartstrings. Amy skipped off to her very stumped husband and pecked the poor guy on the lips before dragging him off to the departure stage."- Come along, Rory, time to move, chop chop."                
  
Rory barely got time to shake Ianto's hand, and thank him for taking care of Amy, but it was alright.             
  
They'd see each other again.  
  
Ianto would make sure of it. After all, if there were any more brilliant ideas like that last one in the girl’s head, they would absolutely need her again.   
  
"I’ll come visit you in Leadworth, okay?" He grinned, calling back to the first time they'd tried to go back home.       
  
"I’ll see you in a bit then!" Amy laughed and after a playful eyeroll, Ianto ordered a pained Angelica to start the machine.            
  
It only took one zap, and the bubble of happiness momentarily sunk back into his chest. The Time Agency suddenly felt a lot bigger, and a lot scarier. As if his courage flew away with the Ponds.      
  
Ianto couldn't dwell though, Amy and Rory would be fine, and he had other business to attend to, like unfixing a fixed point in time: A very handsome, important fixed point that was currently looking at him like he’d gone off the deep end. Angelica likewise, had a confused stare, but it was tempered by the sadness of saying goodbye.     
  
"So, what was that all about?" The captain asked, and snuck his hand inconspicuously into Ianto’s.                  
  
"Something Amy said. The history books, Angie, they're rewriting themselves, right?" He really tried to sound casual, but even his years of practice on the matter wasn’t quite enough to quell the slight smirk on his face.

  
"Duh." Came Angelica’s reply.                
  
"So, every event in history, can, in this moment, be changed without consequence?" The smile grew just a bit wider.              
  
"I wouldn't say without consequence, but you won't be dodging any Reapers, no." Her sadness and weariness now turned to that familiar curiosity, while Jack crossed his arms over his chest.    
  
"That includes the creation of a fixed point?" Ianto asked, not even bothering to hide the wide grin.                
  
"Sure...oh. Oh! That _is_ brilliant." She said, and at the exact same time, the penny dropped for Jack.           
  
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? Because if you are, I think I might owe Mrs. Pond one hell of a snog myself!-" The man’s voice was trembling and with good reason, because if this worked, they would soon have a very mortal Jack on their hands. Now, Ianto had figured that this was enough to drill the idea in his lover’s head, but naturally, Jack needed more than just a suggestion to give into his centuries-old hope.

“-Ianto…Ianto, I really need you to answer that question. Right now. No lying, no being facetious, just don’t do that to me, okay? Because, love or not, I will murder you if you don’t tell me the truth about this.”

“I am suggesting we undo your immortality by preventing you from ever becoming a fixed point in time and space. Cross my heart and hope to…well, die, when we’re both old, gray and tired.” The Welshman answered, with as much of a straight face as he could.

“Holy shit.” Jack’s face turned white, and then very red, before settling on strange pink hue in between. He was breathing very shallow as well, with a side of hyperventilation. 

“I know.” Ianto grinned, and was forced to uphold the older man, who wasn’t very steady on his feet right now. 

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah.”

Of course, Jack was still Jack, and as soon as the Captain had allowed himself a moment, his mind automatically switched back to the practical aspects of their new mission.       
  
"I-I…I’ll need to tell you everything that happened on satellite five, and I mean _everything_ , right down to the last detail. You’ll need to get me out at the right moment to avoid changing the timeline as much as possible. There will be Daleks…and people with guns.-"

 

Ianto was having trouble keeping the smile off his face. It was strange to think that, mere minutes ago, he had accepted Jack’s fate, and then, as suddenly as their friends had gone, a new possibility had come.   
  
"- And I won't go willingly, I mean, two strange Time Agents show up, I would've fought tooth and nail to avoid going back here." Jack happily prattled on.    
  
"Then we'll just have to drag you along forcefully." Angie smirked; she was looking forward to this as well, most likely for completely different reasons. However, like all other things in that moment, it didn’t matter, not to Ianto and Jack, who were still cautiously coming to terms with a future they never dared to imagine.

  
"What about my memories, though? I mean, I won't have met any of you, and there's no guarantee I will get them back without my immortality protecting me from the vortex."                 
  
"Well,-" Ianto shrugged "- if the Agency can take them away, can't they at least put them back?"                
  
"If they were backed up properly, then yeah." Angelica answered.          
  
"And you can-"             
  
"Back them up? Sure, easy peasy. The real challenge lies in taking Jack away from the timeline. First, we'll have to suspend you like the others and then the two of us need to be there at the exact moment when history is rewritten. So we won't risk resetting ourselves to this timeline, and then we'll only have one chance to extract you before the event locks in again."  
  
"We can do that, I mean, I've lost the count on how many times I've forcefully had to drag Jack from one place to another on the clock. And I'm not even including the stopwatch here." The very mention of that stopwatch did things to Ianto’s mind, and judging by the look in Jack’s eyes, to his mind as well.         
  
Angelica snorted at their blissful faces. Before hurrying off to set up a memory backup, while Jack just continued grinning like an idiot.  
  
"Wow, yeah. I-I guess I should start telling you about the satellite then, and every nasty fighting technique I might use...and where I'll be and, Oh shit, my leather pants."             
  
"Your what now?" Ianto perked up. Jack looked mildly embarrassed, for the first time ever. The Welshman wasn't sure whether he should savor the moment, or take a picture of it.            
  
"Hey, we all have...wardrobe malfunctions, okay?" Jack snickered.   
  
"You say that as if I haven't seen you in worse."             
  
"And this, Ianto Jones, is why I love you." The Captain smiled, before giving him a long kiss.             
  
"Yes, yes, love you too, now come on, we've got work to do. And sex. Lots of celebratory sex, me thinks.”

Jack could agree on that.


	28. Until we crash.

* * *

 

_Satellite 5, 200.100_

 

There were Daleks everywhere, and damn it that wasn't what Jax... _jack now_...had signed up for. If this whole mess had involved anyone other than that crazy, legendary Time Lord and his sweet companion, 'Captain Harkness' would've gotten the hell out of dodge. Of course, without those two, Jack would have never gotten himself into this situation in the first place, so that argument was quite moot either way. 

The point was, he was going to die, and could only hope now that it wouldn’t be completely in vain.

Those last few months though, had been nothing short of incredible, and Jack could no longer imagine doing anything else with his life ever again. Never mind the fact that this Doctor had a slight disdain for him and his only way in was little Rose, who probably had no clue of his past, or the crimes he had committed.  
  
However, all other roads had either shut themselves down, or weren’t exactly Jack’s choice. So, if there was ever anything better to die for, well, then he didn't remember it.     
  
The Captain could already hear the Daleks approach in the distance, their monotonous drones of "exterminate." filling the tight corridors of the satellite. He should be scared now, worry about a future that would never come, or perhaps plead for forgiveness from his sins, but the only thing going through his head was:               
          
_Well, we had a good run while it lasted._  
  
Realistically, Jack had known he would die very soon after the Agency had cut him loose. Rogue Agents could make it in the wilderness, but then he’d either have to sell his soul to some cutthroat company that wanted nothing more than a cheap, well-trained assassin, or go native in a backwards era and never travel again. Neither of those where preferable to this end, even if it was an end.

Although, if he was really honest with himself, the Captain had known he was a dead man walking since that day on Boeshane, when his family had been ripped apart.                 
In a last ditch attempt to recall anything from his past Jack tried to mentally recite the rites his people would perform back home when someone was dying, but sadly came up empty. A part of him believed that the Agency had made a mistake: That they’d erased too much, because the faces and events from his childhood were blurred now. As if the loss was not just limited to the two years he was promised.

But that was neither here nor there. He had a Time Lord to defend.  
  
Cursing the lack of decent guns on his part, Jack tried to find a place that might protect him from _Dalek weaponry._ Needless to say, that worked about as well as remembering those rites. The walls were nothing but cold steel, and as soon as he reached a T-intersection, he realized it would all be over anyway.

Once he’d emptied his first two guns at the tin cans, he decided that there really was no better way to go then to go out with a bang in the end. And in that respect, fighting Daleks with nothing more than a few projectile weapons was about as good as it got, really.      
  
By now, the universe's most dangerous saltshaker was rattling off his life’s motto, and Jack simply couldn’t resist playing the swashbuckling hero one last time.

“Exterminate.”

“I kinda figured that.”

He closed his eyes, and challenged the Daleks to end it all.         
  
_Dad, Gray, I'm coming home._  
  
It was supposed to be his last thought, one of a barely remembered home, and for a brief moment, Jack truly believed it had been. The noises ceased, and those Daleks weren’t moving in for another strike. The world had gone still all around him.      
  
_This is suprisingly peaceful._  
  
Just as he began to wonder if this really was what the afterlife was all about, there was a very brief, barely there flash of white in the corner of his eye. It all began to make sense again, once he realized that things never went as he planned them to. Of course Jack wasn't dead, he wasn’t that lucky. No, he was trapped in a temporal bubble, with another set of enemies approaching via perception filters.                
  
"Oh no, no, no. Not now. Seriously, for an Agency filled with time-travellers, you people have the worst timing ever." He yelled, because this really couldn’t be happening now. Not when the Doctor was counting on him to do something important, something that truly mattered.                 
  
He took out his last, hidden gun from that weird waistcoat-y jacket (which, he made a mental note, did actually look quite good on him) and aimed it towards the corridor on his left. Predictably, the filter failed, and his vision immediately registered a small, blonde woman.

"Vex." He snarled, slightly surprised that they would send an engineer of all things to come and pick him up. Usually, when the Agency sent a clean-up crew, they would send the biggest, burliest meanest assassins they had on hand. It could be trap, but he knew well enough not to underestimate his former employers and if they sent that bitch, then they would’ve had a damn good reason to do so.               
  
"Harkin." The woman laughed, and made a valiant attempt to claw his _fucking_ face off. Though she was useless with fire-arms, Vex knew her hand-to-hand and was about as aggressive and unforgiving as Agents came. She wasted no time in moving closer, while just as easily dodging the shots he fired. When she was finally in range, the woman pressed his wrist into an awkward position to get him to drop the gun. It was useless though, because Jack could easily overpower someone who was both weaker and less trained than he was.                 
  
Of course, that's where time-travel got complicated. It seemed that Vex had at least a decade's worth of experience over him, evidenced by a particularly tricky tackle that landed both of them flat on their asses.           
  
The weapon sort of fell by the wayside, and Jack was left trying to hold a rabid woman in a chokehold. She elbowed him in the stomach: he didn't let go. She kicked him in the shin: he didn't let go, but when she managed to land a whack in his groin, well, yeah, he let go.         
  
That didn't mean that the fight was over though, because she doubled back as soon as she had her hard-earned freedom. She tried to pull another crazy cat, but Jack figured that a pre-emptive strike was in order and grabbed her by the neck before she could move close enough.       
  
"I'm not going back." He gritted through his teeth, while avoiding her kicks and deflecting her jabs.             
  
"Oh, trust me, you're coming with us." Vex croaked.     
  
"The only way I'm coming with _you_ is in a body bag." Jack snarled, while his brain was still deciding whether or not he should just hold onto her neck a bit too long, ending it once and for all before she could try to strike again.   
  
There was no reason for him not to do it; after all, he guessed she wouldn’t lend him any clemency if their roles were reversed. Except, somehow, somewhere deep in his mind that disappointed voice of the Doctor urged him to not go through with the murder. So, instead he simply tapped her on the windpipe a bit too hard, banged her head against the cold hard steel of the corridor and watched as a heaving, injured Vex slid down the wall. For good measure, he kicked her in the stomach, once, twice, until her lights went out. She would not be getting up anytime soon.       
  
The captain made sure to check the corners of his little hallway, because he was missing something. It was, just like the perception filter, staring him right in the face without alerting him to its presence.           

_You're coming with us._

_Us._

_Plural._

When it hit him, he was about ready to bang his own head against the wall. He should have known, should have seen it coming.

 _Because where there's one Agent-_  
  
"Stand down." A soft, deep voice told him while the barrel of a sonic pistol was pushed against the back of his head.          
  
_-there’s always another._  
  
"And there's number two." Seeing no other option but to surrender, Jack put his hands above his head and waited for the other guy to make a move.   
  
"I don't want to hurt you."

He’d expected a lot of things, just not that. Time Agents were, by nature, cruel and vain or maybe even completely deranged, but never forgiving. Nor were they ever particularly gentle. By that reasoning Jack assumed that his opponent was either ordered to bring him in alive, or laying out some sort of trap. Whatever the case, it was nothing that a bit of cheek wouldn’t solve.  
  
"You sure got a funny way of showing that." Jack answered casually.   
  
"Just come quietly, we only want one debriefing and then you're free to go again, should you wish to." His new opponent had a most peculiar accent, the captain noted, and he tried to decipher where exactly the man came from.       

_New Earth? Hera? Elysium?_

On the one hand, if this stranger was willing to negotiate, then Jack could bide his time and try to escape later. On the other hand, he was getting some serious liar vibes from this guy’s voice, so giving him more time to come up with elaborate ruses would not be beneficial to Jack’s situation at all.

  
"And wake up with another two years gone, no thanks.-"           
  
The Captain very carefully analyzed his chances. If he could reach his gun, then he could play out a showdown. Bit dramatic, but he was pretty sure that a semi-automatic would do more damage than a pistol, even if it was a sonic one. Worst case scenario, they'd both bite the dust.     
  
_Well, I was a goner anyway_.    
  
If the Agency wanted him alive though, then this guy holding a gun to his head was nothing more than a bluff. It was a risk, but Jack was nothing if not a gambler, so, in the end, his mind went with what he knew best.   
  
"-you know what though, I believe it. You don't want to hurt me." He tried to sound sincere, but if this was in any way an experienced Agent, then the notion would most likely fall on deaf ears.        
  
"Good." Suprisingly, the stranger audibly relaxed, and even the gun on the back of Jack’s neck became less pressing.

He took a deep breath, and quickly turned around.        
  
"Not for you, it isn't." Jack said, and predictably, the guy didn't shoot, giving the Captain an opportunity to strike his opponent on the lower arm. Another weapon clattered on the ground.          
  
For a very brief moment time, even inside the temporal bubble, slowed down. It was completely unrelated to anything remotely technical and was probably a result of Jack’s own adrenaline kicking in, but it gave him enough time to assess his opponent. However instead of going for a more practical approach, the Captain's brain took another direction:       
  
_Oh, you are a handsome one._

In different circumstances, maybe a bar, Jack would have certainly been glad to see a stranger like this in his vicinity. Unfortunately, they weren’t in a bar, and this guy was probably trained by the Agency to deal with people like Jack. Therefore all notions of hitting on the man were shoved away in favor of his own survival instincts. When those finally kicked in again, Jack happily tried to floor the guy by punching him straight in his well-shaped face.   
Sadly, that wasn’t enough to get his stocky built enemy off his feet, and not a moment later Jack was stuck dodging the retaliation.

  
"Fucking hell, Jack!" The man yelled and moved in close enough for a nasty yank of his own.           
  
And then the gloves were officially off.           

Jack escaped, but barely, by using his other arm to elbow the hostile Agent in his face, again. When he was completely free, the Captain made a run for it. If he could reach the Time Lord, then the Agents would no doubt back off. Hell, even a couple of Daleks would be a welcome change now.

It would’ve worked too, if not for the fact that the other guy was not only really damn strong, but faster than Jack as well. Before he got very far, the man grabbed him by the neck and forcefully pushed him to the ground and sitting _on top of him_. Maybe it was his imagination, but Jack could hear a part of his ribcage crack when he was tackled to the floor.

  
"Whoa there, hotshot! Not that I don’t enjoy a rough and tumble now and again, but you probably shouldn’t be doing this on company time." Jack heaved, and tried to distract his enemy by making small talk. The purpose was to give him an opportunity to put his arm on the side of face, and drag the guy off of him.

Even though the move was successful, the man took hold of the arm taking him down and twisted it painfully behind Jack’s back. So, not only was he now on the floor but somehow, the agent had also flipped him over onto his stomach, making most counter-attacks pretty useless. 

_How the heck…_

He made an attempt to get out of the grip his enemy had on him, but it was fruitless. After all, six feet worth of muscles didn't exactly gave way easily. Despite that, he’d rarely met someone who fought so well, yet did so very little damage in the process.

“Feisty too!” he laughed, just to taunt the other man.                
  
"Shut up." The gorilla snarled, hoisted him up and moved to slam Jack's face in the corridor's wall. The Captain could already see the steel coming straight at him and came up with the only remaining option to him. Jack pushed his legs off the wall to gain height and neatly flipped over his enemy's shoulder.  
  
 _I can't believe that worked! And in leather pants, no less._  
  
Now, standing behind a quite confused opponent, it was his turn to come up with a way to keep the other man in place. He went for a simple chokehold; the move was comparable to the one he’d used on Vex. Initially, this seemed effective, but like Jack himself, the stranger had another move to make.

The man slumped his head forward, and before Jack could comprehend what he was planning, the Agent slammed the back of his head right into Jack’s. Stars were dancing in front of his eyes and… _Jesus Christ, does he have solid iron skull or what?..._ The Captain’s orientation was completely off, the world had fallen slightly out of kilter, and what blurry sight he still had was used to desperately locate the enemy. Once the ringing in his ears had stopped, he could hear the assailant call out to his partner.

“Angie! Cuffs! And start preparing a time-jump.”

Not a moment later, his arms were grabbed and put firmly into the metal bonds. Jack himself was still much too dizzy to even try and resist when they take him away from the one job he had: buying time for the Doctor. To be fair, he wouldn’t have been of much more use to the Time Lord anyway.

It would have been nice to die for something right, though. Rather than get trapped by the Agency again.

There was a familiar lurch in his stomach, and the backdrop changed abruptly. Normally, Jack would have been fine, but since his head was probably halfway into a concussion, the additional shock of traveling through time did a real number on his condition. The moment they ‘touched down’ on the white floors of the Agency, he promptly threw up his breakfast and saw the world grow black before his eyes.

Very distantly, he could hear worried shouts of a man calling his adopted name, but couldn’t properly reflect on how strange that was, or who even would, because his brain chose that moment to completely drown in unconsciousness.

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t sure how long he was actually out, but the first thing Jack became aware off was a hand holding up his chin, and a cold spot on his forehead. The voices he had heard before passing out soon returned, albeit a bit muted.

“You’re sure this won’t do any more harm? His head, I think I may have hit him harder than I intended.” The male Agent was saying.

“He’ll be fine. Might take a bit longer for the memories to sink in completely, but that’s all. Besides, it’s not like he was particularly co-operative.” His female coworker replied, and if Jack focused hard enough, he could hear the rasp in her voice: No doubt a result of the Captain’s attack.

“He had no reason to be. We’re just strangers to him.” The voice sounded weirdly melancholic, while the hand gently ran over a particular painful area above his eyebrow.

“Fair enough. I need to go get the memory implants. You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Two blue eyes swam into Jack’s field of vision, joined by the acute realization that he couldn’t freely move his arms: They’d cuffed him to a chair. Any goodwill he might have had for his captors flew right out of the window when he remembered that they were Time Agents and that they were no doubt planning something for him. Something he really wasn’t going to like.

The Agent still tending to Jack’s face noticed that his patient was waking up, but made no move to get away from him, or go for a semi-respectable impression. This would have been quite difficult though, even if he had chosen to maintain an acceptable distance, because the man’s face vaguely resembled an overly ripe peach. There was a gash running over his broken nose and deep bruises were already forming beneath his eyes, the right of which was just one big black and blue mess to begin with.

_Gotcha good, didn’t I?_

“How’s your head?” The man asked, probably knowing full well the damage he had done.

“I don’t know-” Jack countered. “-How’s your face?”

“You’re going to regret that in oh, about ten minutes.” He calmly applied another icepack to the wound he was treating.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t respond well to threats.” The captain deadpanned.

“Trust me, that wasn’t a threat.” The guy just gave him a rueful smile.

“So, I suppose this is the moment where you bring out whatever grandmaster is in charge of the operation to chew me out some more before taking another set of memories?” He tried to get out of the steel clasps on his wrists, but couldn’t find any leeway. Now, if they were going to move him again, then, maybe, he could try something. The odds of that however, were slim, because by the look of the room, and all the technical equipment in it, this was where they would do it.

_This is where they’re going to take another part of my past._

“No grandmasters. No chewing out. No memory taking. As far as we’re concerned, you did the right thing.” His enemy answered.

_Wait…_

_What?_

It had to be a trap. He was sure of it now. This situation was all some kind of strange deception to get him to do their bidding again.

“Then why am I strapped in this… _thing_?” Jack spat out.

“Because we’re going to give you a few memories back.”

_They wouldn’t...not ever._

“You’re going to give me back my two years?” He did his very best to keep the hope from his voice, but wasn’t completely successful.

“I wish we could, but they’re gone. Whoever took your memories took those with them to the grave.” The Agent sighed deeply, and turned around to prepare for stitching.

This situation was getting crazier by the second. If they weren’t going to insert back _his_ memories, then what were they going to put back?

“You’re going to give me someone else’s memories?!”

“Don’t move-” The stranger said, before using a medical gun to stitch up the wound above Jack’s eye. “- To answer your question: The memories are yours, in a manner of speaking, but you haven’t lived them yet…will never live them, I suppose, since we just rewrote time.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure you can. It’s a pretty long, complicated story spanning several centuries.”

“And you’re not planning to tell me before you decide my fate? Is that it?”

The Agent hummed under his breath. There were worry-lines on his face, which, by the way, was far too young to hold them. There were a few small ridges on the side of his heavy-set hands that Jack recognized. It still took him too long time to realize where from.

_Burns._

_The Agency wouldn’t have left scars like that._

“You’re not a Time Agent.”

“I wasn’t when we met, but there was a…job opening.” An enigmatic smile.

“We’ve met before?”

“I have. You haven’t.”

“Alright. So you’re from my future?” Even to the greenest rookie it would have been obvious that Jack was fishing for information, and every Agent, again, no matter how untrained, would know to shut down those kinds of negotiations.

Except it seemed, this man.

“I was, but I’m not anymore, I hope I will be, though.”

Not that the information he gave was particularly useful.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of a weird guy?”

“No, they usually just step around me. You know, ‘cause I’m a bit of a weird guy.”             

The man’s particular flavor of sardonic humor appealed to Jack more than it probably should. In fact, it was why he had taken such a shine to 21st century Cardiff when the Doctor had landed there.

_Hang on._

“You’re Welsh.”

“You’re very observing.”

“So you are Welsh then?”

“What gave it away?” The man raised his eyebrow.

Welsh, smart, handsome and good in a fight: Jack really, really wished he’d met this guy before the Agency had gotten to him. Of course, then the man turned around and gave the Captain a whole new reason to want that innocent bar-scenario.

_Holy hell, you could bounce a penny off that ass._

_That’s it. I’ve been patient, I swear I tried to behave, but Doctor, not even you could blame me for this._

“So, you doing anything later tonight?”

“Are you hitting on me?” The Welshman snorted.

“Would that be a bad thing?” Jack tried his most appealing grin.

“It would be…a very predictable thing, I guess.”          

“Predictable. Never been called that before. We’ve done this a lot then? In the future?”

The come-hither vibe he’d been giving was paying off, because Hot ‘n Welsh approached, put his hands on either side of the chair and hung over the Captain in a way that didn’t have anything to do with intimidating a prisoner.

“Loads.”

_Yes! Welsh, smart, handsome, good in a fight and sexy, I have hit the fucking jackpot!_

“I bet it was good.”

“Oh, it was.” The Agent practically purred.

Even though he was strapped to a chair in metal cuffs, unable to move in pretty much any direction, Even though his head was seriously begging for pain medication and his ribs were not functioning to its full capacity, Jack was absolutely ready to pounce. With what little movability he had, the Captain moved closer, and closer until…

“Seriously?! Five-point-seven minutes. That’s all it takes?! I leave you two alone for five-point seven minutes and you’re already jumping each others bones again.” Vex’s shrill voice called out.

_Time Agents._

_Worst. Timing. Ever._

“Angie.” The man groused, not particularly pleased with the interruption either.

“Get off it. You want him back to normal, don’t you?”

“I am normal!” Jack bit back.

“Hardly. Though, I suppose not even we can fix that particular problem.”

“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Fixing problems.”

“We live to serve.-” She answered with a mean little smile on her face, before turning to her co-worker“-Now get those electrodes ready. ” As his new friend placed the small wireless dots on the side of his face, Jack’s mind was running a mile a minute. If he would know this man in the future and they were somehow close, then that would explain why he’d been so careful not to hurt Jack. He couldn’t quite dispel the possibility that this was all a trap, but if it was, then he’d already sprung it back at the Satellite. If this wasn’t a trap, however…

“Do you know the Doctor?”

“In name only.” The stranger replied, and used his hands to tilt Jacks head so he could place another electrode.

_So, you know me, but not the Doctor…_

That would imply that he had somewhere down the line he’d parted ways with the Time Lord, and found himself a new life in Wales.

_Guess I chose backwards era over cutthroat company after all…_

Jack did his very, very best to recall the interpersonal relationships citizens of the 21st century generally upheld. They could be friends in the future, but the guy had already indicated that they’d had sex, which didn’t exactly fit with the 21st century norms. The Welshman’s mannerisms and general attitude towards Jack also indicated that what they’d been doing wasn’t your typical fling.

Nor were these people known to be polyamorous.

“Are we together? In a monogamous kinda way, I mean.”

“Took us a while, but I suppose that’s how we ended up, yes.-” The man sighed before murmuring “-Of all the times I thought we’d be having this conversation…”

“So it was just you, I wasn’t with anyone else either?”

“I believe so.”

_Well, it’s not impossible. He does seem like my type._

Jack shrugged and smiled, throwing the Welshman off for a moment.

“You’re…not bothered by it?”

“Nah, you seem like an alright guy. Hey, at least it’s better than Lang! Have you met him? He tricked me into a shotgun wedding once…It was really rude. I shot him for it, ironically with an actual shotgun.” Maybe that head-butt had left him with a bit of brain damage after all, but Jack found that he was quite comfortable talking to the Welshman.

The guy snorted.

“Figures.”

“Oi, are those electrodes ready yet? We’ve got two millennia’s’ worth of memories to implant and I don’t plan on spending all day doing it.” Vex called out from her little corner.

_Two millennia!?_

“What?!-”

He’d never had memories planted in his head, and whatever vague rumors he’d heard about it indicated that the process wasn’t exactly pleasant in the first place. But even if he ignored all the scuttlebutt, Jack couldn’t imagine that his brain was made to hold thousands of years of events.

“-Whoa! No, no, no. _No._ That kind be right…I’m _human_. You can’t just…that can’t be healthy!”

The male Agent rested a hand on the captain’s shoulder, and threw an angry glare towards his co-worker.

“Jack. Calm down.”

“You said these were _my_ memories, but I can’t have lived that long, I’m human. It’s not…I want out. Let me out!”

“Please, they are. They’re one hundred percent yours, trust me.” A pained look crossed his new, or old, friend’s face.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s not like you’ll let me go!?” he snarled.

The stranger paused, sighed again and stroked Jack’s cheek for a moment. If nothing else, it subtly drained most of Jack’s panic. Not all, because the words kept ringing in his ears.

_Two millennia. That’s twenty centuries. Two hundred decades. Two-thousand years. Twenty-four thousand months. One-hundred and four thousand weeks. Seven-hundred and thirty thousand days…_

The Welshman meanwhile, had turned to Vex and proceeded to have a whispered, heated debate with her. After a good five minutes, during which Jack had been carefully calculating how many hours there were in two fucking millennia ( _seven million five-hundred thirty one thousand six-hundred twenty six_ ), the blonde Agent threw up her hands before stalking off while the Welshman made his way back to the Captain.

“You’re right. It wouldn’t be fair to you. We’re letting you go. Angelica is getting your vortex manipulator as we speak.” He unlocked the clasps on Jack’s chair.

_Hello, talk about a change of heart._

“And the Agency won’t come after me anymore?” The captain let out a deep breath.

“No. I can’t guarantee that the rogues won’t though.”

“What about you?”

“I-I will continue working here, I suppose.” The distraught blue eyes refused to look at him, and that hurt just a little bit more than he could’ve anticipated. Aside from being one hell of a catch, the Welshman was obviously more than that in Jack’s life at one point or another, which was intriguing, to say the least. If he walked away now, then the Captain would never figure it out.

“What about us?”

“There isn’t much of an ‘us’ here, is there? Just one nasty fistfight and an odd conversation.”

“You could tell me, though: About what happened, who I was, who we were.”

“I don’t think it works like that. You…the other you had gone through so much and I’d only begun to scratch the surface when we last parted.”

“Well, we could still try to make it work?”

_There’s no way that I’m letting this guy go that easily._

The Welshman obviously disagreed.

“You don’t understand: There are parts of him in you, sure, but it’s an incomplete picture right now. I loved Jack for who he was. All of him. To…to have that erased, to constantly have to miss those parts, I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

“What…just because I’m missing out on a few events here and there-”

“No. It’s not about a few events here and there. You’re a different person, the experiences that shaped him into who he was, they haven’t happened to you yet. They won’t ever happen to you.”

“So, it’s either you _and_ the memories, or neither?” Jack asked.

“Oh Jesus. Look, I’m not usually one for ultimatums, but in this case: yes, I suppose it is.”

That was an interesting choice he hadn’t anticipated on. Jack tried to imagine living with all those years in his head. The pain of it seemed terribly daunting: Two-thousand years of falling down and getting up again, two-thousand years of being abandoned, two thousand years of loving and losing people. Of course, directly opposite of that stood two-thousand years of experiencing everything life had to offer, two-thousand years of adventures, of friends and families which would eventually cumulating into being with this strange Time-Agent-yet-not-a-Time-Agent.

_Curiosity and the cat, Jax, curiosity and the cat…_

But what alternatives were there? Return to the Doctor? The Time Lord was long gone and nearly untraceable. Besides, if his friend here was any indication, he’d eventually leave the TARDIS anyway, and then what? Drift in space, getting drunk in one bar or the next? He couldn’t chase down his lost memories, even the Agency didn’t know where they were.

In the end, Jack was forced to admit that he had no goal or purpose for his life whatsoever.

“What would happen if I did it?” he said, surprising the Welshman once again.

“Y-you’d regain your memories and decide where to go from there, I guess.”

_Alright, that doesn’t sound too bad._

_Except…_

“Will it hurt?” Jack tried not to sound nervous.

“Yes. A lot.”

_Well, if nothing else, he’s honest about that._

He’d done pain before. People did not become Time-Agents without living through a significant amount of physical and mental injuries, either during training or fieldwork. That wasn’t really what scared him, but the thought of all those years, stretching out in his mind, of becoming someone else in the blink of an eye.

_That’s death, just a different kind._

“Is he better?” The captain whispered.

“Come again?”

“Is this Jack you know a better man than I am?”

An oppressive silence spread throughout the room. The stranger tried to start sentences several times, but came up short every time. Eventually he settled on something that was neither a confirmation, nor a denial.

“I couldn’t say…I don’t really know you.”

“But you know him?”

A warm smile radiated on the Welshman’s face “I do.”

No-one was that good of an actor, Jack decided. This wasn’t a trap. This wasn’t some kind of ruse from the Agency to draw him in. Whoever he was, the man sitting in front of him was deeply in love with a Jack that didn’t exist at the moment and would no doubt go through hell and back to regain him.

_And yet he still gave me a choice. He wouldn’t put his own happiness before someone else’s._

That was enough for him to make up his mind. Right now, Jack had no-one. Not one person would remember or mourn him a week after he died. The other him however, was apparently capable of making a brave, clever, handsome, gentle Welshman insanely happy.

“He must be one hell of a guy. This Jack of yours.”

“Oh, he is, and he’ll probably be the first to tell you so.” The Time Agent raised his eyebrow.

“I suppose some things never change.-” Jack laughed before settling back in the strange chair-contraption“-Alright. You convinced me. Let’s do this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…just…Stay with me?” he turned up the palm of his hand.

“Absolutely.” Ianto took it.

Finally, finally, Vex chose the appropriate time to appear, rather than ruin another important moment.

“I got the VM, but I’m still not…Wait, why is he back in the chair?”

“We’re going to through with it.” The Welshman answered.

“What? Alright, sure, just make up your damn mind already.”

“I thought that’s what you’re here for?” Jack smugly pointed to the machines.

“Gods, I am going to enjoy turning the switch that blasts those memories right back in your little monkey brain.” Was the only reply he got.

“Alright, that’s enough you two.-” Her coworker stepped in; the ease and practice with which he did so made Jack wonder if this sort of thing between them happened often. “- Angie, power up that device, please.”

“Fine. Sure.” She mumbled, and retreated back to her little corner of the room.

“So,-” Jack said. “See you on the other side?”

“Absolutely.” His Time Agent friend held out a hand, and despite the metal shackles around his arms, Jack took it.

“Preparing neural implants.-” Vex called out from the room, and an ominous light raced through the small conduits in the wall.

“-Starting procedure in…3…2…1…”

If she said anything else after that, Jack never heard it. A sharp, white-hot pain suddenly drilled into his skull, and bled through to every part of his body. Contrary to what he might have predicted, there were no memories, no reliving of events, just the feeling that his brain was burning up in his head, while taking his heart, lungs and stomach with it. Spots before his eyes quickly blended together into one big black mass, and the only thing Jack was vaguely aware of was a cold hand gripping his own.

Afterwards, the Captain wouldn’t be able to tell if he’d screamed, but if he’d had to wager a guess, the answer would’ve been an irrevocable ‘yes’.

However, in that moment, the pain only lasted and lasted: Stretching out over years, decades and even centuries. There was nothing but the darkness, and Jack being dragged over endless shards of glass.

Until finally…

The pain ceased, the ringing in his ears subsided slowly into silence and the darkness lost its menacing qualities alongside the changes.

It was just him now.

Alone with thoughts that no longer seemed to make sense.

_A Time Lord. The same, but different, telling him he’s a monster, or something similar._

_A man with a cloak and a scythe, taunting him, luring him in._

_People, so many people, only with him briefly before passing on to some other destination._

_Strange beings and events, so much more improbable than he ever could have imagined._

_Playful eyes become harsh words, become friendly gestures, become a desperate cling to humanity._

“Jesus Christ, you said he’d be alright!” A voice punctures through the chaos raging in his mind.”

“He _is_ alright, a bit conked out maybe, but that’s all. You knew this wouldn’t be a joyride. Just give the man a moment, he’ll be his old, cocky self again soon enough.”

Jack figured that that was as good a time as any to make a grasp for reality, still so far away. He tried to talk, but all that came out was a hoarse cough.

“Jack!” A face swam into his blurry vision: Blue eyes, brown hair and a worried frown, all familiar now.

“Ianto?”

_Weren’t we supposed to be backing up my memories before…_

Rationally, he realized that the procedure was done, that his life, his history had been changed forever. But in truth, it all seemed so abstract, he hadn’t moved from his chair, he didn’t feel much different, aside from a couple of aches here and there, and a strange weight slowing his body down.

There were inconsistencies though, things that didn’t make sense with his last image of reality. For one , his clothes didn’t feel the same: less familiar and definitely less comfortable than what he was wearing before. For two, Ianto’s face wasn’t exactly as he’d last seen either. A broken, bloody nose and bruises everywhere.

“What happened to you?”

Ianto lifted his eyebrow, and Jack’s new, or rather original, memories came rushing back in. There was an overabundance of him punching, kicking and nearly choking the life out of the Welshman.

“Shit!-” Was his first, unedited response as he gently prodded at his partner’s face. “-I am so, so sorry. Jesus. I swear I will make it up to you, or, or…This will never happen again.”

“Ouch, ow, Jack-” Ianto slapped his hands away. “-Stop that. I know you’re sorry, and if you’d taken the time to inhale, then you’d know that I did my fair share of damage as well.”

He took a moment to test that theory and found that, yes, there was definitely something not quite right with his chest.

Mainly that the act of breathing caused him an excruciating amount of pain.

He groaned, and waited for his regenerative abilities to kick in.

And waited…

And waited…

This was probably one of those moments where he should’ve been overjoyed that the curse poisoning his life was lifted, but all Jack could feel was physical pain and an awkward crunchy feeling in his chest. After three solid minutes of trying, the captain was quite worried his body wouldn’t be able to deal with this kind of stress.

“Ianto?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m dying.” He deadpanned

“You are not dying, you just have a broken rib.”

“Hey, I know what broken ribs feel like! It’s not this…this…”

“Enduring?” Ianto shot back.

And okay, Jack didn’t have much to say to that.

“How long does this sort of thing usually last?”

“Couple of weeks, probably.”

“You mean I’m going to be stuck like this for _weeks_!?” he yelled, and immediately regretted the action, before sinking back into the chair and consequently regretting _that_ as well.

“We’ll find you some good pain-medication.-” The Welshman carefully helped him stand, while Jack cussed and complained the whole way through. “- Some very, very good medication, if you keep acting like this.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Oh yeah, we’ll knock you right out.-” He murmured. “-If not for your sake, then bloody well for mine.”

The captain tried to laugh, and yes, that hurt too, but not nearly as much as it did a few months ago.

* * *

 

Jack was fast asleep.

Which, in and of itself wasn’t strange, given the day he’d had: Being captured on a satellite in the future, facing off against Daleks, then facing off against Time Agents, being captured again and then finally, having two millennia’s worth of memories planted into his head, It wasn’t exactly business as usual, not even for Torchwood agents.

They hadn’t even given him that many drugs.

No, what was peculiar about the situation was the fact that Ianto was there to witness it. In their three years of ‘sleeping’ together, the Welshman had never actually seen Jack resting. Either he would casually sneak out once he thought Ianto was out, or he’d just lay around, wrestling with the sheets and watching the Welshman. If the captain slept, he would always do it while his partner was asleep himself and would, like clockwork, wake up before Ianto could.

So to see him, like this, eyes closed , body completely relaxed and _not dead_ was quite a novel thing. The Welshman ran a hand through whatever parts of Jack’s hair weren’t squashed into one of the pillows and smiled.

_We’re normal now._

_…_

_We are light-years away from Earth, outside the temporal vortex itself and erased from history altogether._

_But we’re normal._

Tomorrow, they would get up, have breakfast, fix up whatever damage had been done to the property, have dinner and then go to sleep again.

No danger.

No aliens.

No deaths.

Of course, Ianto knew that eventually, those first two would no doubt return to their lives. He didn’t think either of them would ever be content with a truly white-picket fence kind of normal.

Still, he sincerely hoped that death would stay away, at least for several more decades.

A deep, slow murmur came from his right. It seemed that even in his sleep, Jack was an incurable chatterbox. A hand stretched out and gently tapped him on the arm. He couldn’t be sure, but Ianto thought he heard the word ‘coffee’ somewhere in the Captain’s unconscious rant.

“Right, love. Coffee.” He responded, and the older man seemed content with that answer.

The Welshman briefly wondered what would happen to Torchwood without his lover’s extensive influence and perhaps his own small contribution too. Maybe, eventually, Gwen would find her way back to the organisation. Maybe it would try to become the Time-Agency again, creating a Temporal Parasite but…and that was the tricky part when it came to time-travel…Ianto, Jack and Angelica would have to stop them in the act of making such an anomaly and in turn, the only version of the Agency to ever exist would be their little crew of three.

He wasn’t even sure if Torchwood would ever be able to recreate the steps that led them to time-travel. Perhaps the forces that created Maes, and consequently the vortex manipulators, didn’t exist anymore. In that case it really was like Mr. Valentine had told them.

_The events as you knew them only exist in slivers anymore and with every change another corrupt Agent will be wiped from history forever._

John Hart would remember his organisation and so would some of the others, living in a future where Time Agents had been a common sight. However, they wouldn’t be able to travel back to a facility that no longer existed. Angelica theorized that though their memory might live on, Maes had ensured that virtually all of the active Agents would be long gone before the timeline was fixed.

Those men and women had been doomed the moment that Parasite had set foot in history.

It was a sad realization, as it also meant that they were the last remnants of the old Agency. Yet at the same time, they were first beginnings of a new one.

Ianto had spoken to his friend about it while they were waiting for the timeline to get to the year 200,100. If they were going to set up a new organisation it would need to be different. Despite all their noble creeds, the Agency had been created solely to preserve one timeline. Obviously, they weren’t going to follow in those footsteps. That said, they’d also come to the conclusion that Torchwood wasn’t exactly the way to go either. Eradicating everything that was perceived as a ‘threat’ to humanity, or any other race for that matter, would be abusing the incredible power they’d inherited.

Aside from that, they didn’t have the capability to work alone anymore. They didn’t have the strength to carry out those sorts of sentences, not even if they’d want to. No, the new organisation would need to work with others to grow, would need to find and accept allies to become successful. Arrogance wasn’t a luxury they could afford anymore.

So, in the end, they’d come to the conclusion that they’re impromptu ragtag team of people had been the closest to having a real, unbiased goal for the Time Agency: Working together to stop forces that were damaging the universe on a temporal level.

_Disregarding the fact that the Doctor is possibly one of those forces._

_For now._

There were plenty of time-travelers out there with bad intentions or the stupidity to destroy the very place they called home. Aside from that, there were always natural disasters. People were swallowed by rifts, cracks in time destroyed worlds and those were just the tip of the iceberg.

If the Time Lord’s work, for better or for worse, was any indication, then there’d be plenty to do for an organization such as theirs.

In a few weeks, after all the repairs were made, they would go out and be something different. Something new.

Ianto figured that he was finally ready for change.

Next to him, Jack sighed, still far off in dreams of his own. The Welshman smiled. Not only was he ready, he also had someone to rely on this time. Ianto swung an arm loosely around the Captain’s waist, kissed his forehead and before going to sleep himself, whispered the same words he’d been told after landing in this amazing place to Jack.

“Welcome to the Time Agency.”

 


	29. Epilogue

_Wales, 2011_

 

For most creatures in the universe time is a rather simple concept, what’s done is done, what’s happening matters and what’s to come is uncertain. That’s how it works for animals, plants, bacteria and the likes. The self-aware species however, complicate matters. They start to think about how time works, what it is. They theorize on how to stop it, how to travel through it and how to change it after it has flowed past them.

The real question is: what happens when you reach those individuals who believe that they’ve truly mastered time? How powerful is someone who can go back and rewrite all his mistakes or can go forward and influence what he’ll become.

It ended, or rather continued because nothing ever truly begins or ends, with two men, one young, one old, standing on top of a dune, looking down on a small family playing by the beach.

“So? How was she?” The young one asked.

“She was great, getting married actually.”

“Agent Matheson?”

“Oh yeah, poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

“I thought she wasn’t CIA anymore?”

“No, you’re right. She just…went out to find him again, I guess. Oh, and get this! She’s a writer.” The older man held out a paperback to his companion, who reluctantly accepted it and after reading the back, snorted.

“A brave Captain from World War II takes on a time-traveling parasite in an epic adventure through the universe? Christ, just what your ego needed: A book written solely to stroke it.”

“You’re just jealous she didn’t include you.-” The other man teased. “-It’s quite a tale though, isn’t it?”

“That it is.”

They turned to the scene before them: A father and a mother, building sandcastles with their young daughter.

“How is Gwen?” The Captain asked, nodding to the woman on the beach.

“Alright, as far as I can tell. She’s got a pretty intense job with Cardiff’s finest, but nothing our Mrs. Cooper can’t handle.”

“Good, that’s good.”

A brief silence took over the conversation. For a moment, the woman on the beach looked up but made no note of the men, and returned to her own business soon enough.

“Do you ever…regret letting her go?” The younger asked.

“Nah, not really. Not after everything that’s happened.”

“Do you think she’ll join Torchwood this time?”

“I don’t expect her to. Alex has very strict job requirements, but who knows? She might surprise us.”

A soft breeze blew past them, and ever so slowly, the tides came up to take back all the sandcastles that family made.

“Well,-” The Welshman said. “-we should go.”

“Right. Our big appointment at U.N.I.T.”

“Can’t let Ms. Sato wait. She’s been in that prison for far too long already.”

“Lead the way, Agent Jones.”

“Thank you, Agent Harkness.”

And with a brief flash, two men who didn’t exist used machines that were never invented to travel into a future no-one could have predicted.

 

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go, I’ve been delaying it for quite some time now, but that’s it. That’s all folks. Although, well, that’s not really true, because I’ve got a prequel to the sequel all lined up and ready to be posted back to back with this chapter, and the sequel is well on its way. 
> 
> However…it’s not done yet. The sequel that is. I’ve been at it for roughly a year now, and I’ve gotten stuck seven chapters in, meaning that, yes, I do intend to finish it, but it might take a looooong time to do so, with the possible risk of not doing so at all. I’m going to leave that decision up to you, do you want me to post the pre-sequel and the sequel already, or would you rather leave it as a completed story for now? Either way, let me know via comments, as you wonderful people have always done. 
> 
> As an added bonus, or a bit of explanation: the chapter headings for Mandala are all lyrics taken from different songs, each one correlating to the characters who were most important during those chapters. 
> 
> For general chapters: Evanescence – What you want.  
> For Ianto’s chapters: 3 Doors Down – The champion in me.  
> For Amy’s chapters: Katzenjammer – A bar in Amsterdam.  
> For Jack’s chapters: Hoobastank – Crawling in the dark.  
> For Rory’s chapters: Owl City – Alligator Sky.  
> For Angelica’s chapters: Gabriella Cilmi – Woman on a mission.   
> For Gwen’s chapters: Within Temptation – Where is the edge?  
> For Maes’s chapters: Muse – Butterflies and hurricanes.  
> For that one John Hart chapter: Supermen Lovers – Starlight.
> 
> And of course there’s Owner of A lonely Heart in there somewhere too, because quite frankly, what’s a space opera without a little Yes?
> 
> Finally, I just wanted everyone who read this story to know that I never anticipated it'd be as loved as it is. This was my very first fanfic ever written, and I just want to thank you all for sticking with it 'till the end and for giving me amazing comments and so. many. kudos. 
> 
> So, you know, lot's of cuddles and cookies for all of you!
> 
> Doomsduck.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, symbols and situations in this story are owned by BBC worldwide and affiliates or other parties. No money was made with this work of fiction.


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